Tempering the Edge
by VermillionQ
Summary: After Brom's death they fled and for three years Eragon and Saphira have remained hidden far to the north of the Empire. With Murtagh, Angela, and Solembum they have learned and grown. Now the time has come for them to return to Alagaesia and answer the inevitable questions. Where were they, what were they doing, and what will happen next? - AU
1. A Day for Fishing and Decisions

Eragon peered out at the horizon. The rays of the sun were slowly creeping upwards, marking the change of twilight to daylight. A sea wind rushed up at him, but he had become accustomed to the cold climate of the harsh northern reaches of Alagaesia. The bottom half of his long coat whipped around his legs. The silvery fur around the collar bristled. He had been particularly proud of the kill he had made to acquire the coat. A massive snow wolf, easily large enough to take down Cadoc or Snowfire, had served him well in the creation of various items needed to survive in the climate he found himself in. He felt a nudge at the back of his mind.

'A good day for hunting sea fowl,' stated Saphira. The ground shook slightly as she came to rest next to him. Two years had been kind to her. She was now larger enough to have easily torn apart his old home in Carvahall with spines the size of large hogs and claws capable of taking down an elk with a single flick. Eragon wordlessly nodded.

"Eragon!" He looked over the ledge. Murtagh stood twenty feet below waving. A pair of ospreys was draped over his back. He smirked.

"Good hunting I see. Saphira thinks today would be good for fishing. I agree. That storm we saw when scouting the other day will be upon us by tonight. We shouldn't let today go to waste." Murtagh smiled and nodded.

"Get down here and we'll get everything ready. I'll call for Angela." Murtagh turned away, mentally contacting the herbalist to come down to the shore. Eragon clambered onto Saphira's back. She was not wearing her saddle, but Eragon had no worries. His trousers, form fitting and made of padded leather with a thin layer of hare and pika fur lining the inside, were hardy and protected him from her abrasive scales which were stronger than ever. She unfurled her wings and jumped, gliding to below.

Eragon leaped off of her to the ground, landing lightly, and turned to the makeshift lean-to. Murtagh and he had constructed it out of oiled buckskin and timber staves. Underneath they stowed a variety of important items for their sea faring adventures. Eragon pulled out the pieces to assemble their catamaran. Taught the designs by Angela, Murtagh and he had constructed it for the purpose of navigating the icy waters of the north and to acquire game of their own. It took the pressure off of Saphira to hunt for four other beings beside herself.

Eragon turned as he heard footsteps. Angela approached, her arms looped through the oddly shaped woolen shawl she wore over her leather covered sailing jacket. Instead of a dress or skirt she wore thick linen leggings and knee high boots. Murtagh was garbed like Eragon, but brown leather and the fur of a bear for his collar. "Fabulous," she said with a cheery voice. "Time to get cracking." She began to assemble the ship with Murtagh while Solembum curled up without a word to anyone by the smoldering embers underneath the smoking rack set over the depression Saphira had dug to set the fire.

Soon enough they were out to sea while Saphira circled overhead with Solembum in his human form on her back. Their combined keen eyesight had saved all of them many a time from being prey to beast, man, and nature. Angela wielded a whale bone javelin with amazing dexterity and precision, spearing as high as six fish at a time. Murtagh used his composite longbow to shoot down more ospreys or other medium sized game from the air and then used a net to drag it in.

Eragon set his mind searching the depths, hunting by magic. When he came upon a large enough animal he'd invade its mind. If he discovered it was male and had recently sired offspring or was attached to another he'd leave it be. If it was not he'd invade its mind and kill it instantly with one of the words of death. Angela, being a witch, had taught Eragon a vast array of things from potions, rituals, and incantations. She had even given him two compendiums of knowledge of the ancient language and he treasured them greatly.

'Saphira, do you spot anything from above.' She hummed a deep vibrating sound. He looked up and saw her neck craning down and her tongue flicking out. Finally after a few moments she snapped it up.

'About a fifty feet directly below you, a young orca.' Eragon thanked her and immediately cast his mind until he found it. Fear engulfed him as he invaded its mind and sifted through its memories. As he concluded it was a worthy kill he stated his apologies in the ancient language and cast the spell. "Kverst," he intoned out loud. Immediately he felt the animal die.

When he had first done this he had recoiled at the feeling, but now he didn't even twitch. He picked up a harpoon and launched it downward with a spell, directing it to pierce the end section. He secured the rope to the large log that hung in the middle of the catamaran, used for buoyancy and to haul catches.

"What tasty treat do we have for tonight," Angela asked without looking up from her knitting. The two pine boxes next to her were full of fish.

"An orca, which means fertilizer for your herbs," she smiled broadly at this, "and a variety of other goods from bone, meat, oil, and hide." Murtagh grunted in appreciation as he hauled a rather large loon aboard.

"We should get back and start dealing with it right away. The storm will be upon us soon." Eragon looked out and once seeing the thick opaque clouds on the horizon he turned and began making hand symbols. Three glowing glyphs set before him. He then whistled a tune and the marks flew into the sails. Immediately they began rushing back to shore. He felt the slight ebb of energy leave him.

Murtagh and Angela began gathering things up, steadying themselves as the catamaran rushed for the shore. As they landed Murtagh and Eragon removed their coats and shoes, pulling on thigh high boots of seal skin and treated tree bark specifically designed for the work of stepping through the water and hauling the boat and its catches to dry land.

Angela and Solembum, who had landed with Saphira, began to lay out fish on long boards to begin the process of preparing them for smoking and storing. Saphira lit the fire till it was roaring. As Eragon and Murtagh finally finished hauling the boat's items assure Saphira dove in and retrieved the orca.

'It is young, maybe only a little over twelve feet.' She burst out of the water, her wings flapping in large strokes. She set the orca down by the lean to delicately before backing away and landing herself. Eragon went over and removed his gloves and rolled up his sleeves in preparation for handling the task of gutting it.

* * *

The day had ended with higher winds and the cold finally biting at their cheeks. However they were able to finish just as the first flurries fell. Saphira hauled their things and then all of them back up the cliff side. They stole away into the thick pine woods that lined the edge of the shore cliffs. Soon enough they came upon an isolated clearing at the base of The Spine, a waist deep pond set to the right, and a large cabin that was placed before the mouth of a decent sized cave.

Once everything was settled inside Saphira retreated to her cave to feast upon two large elk she had captured. She had waited for Eragon and Murtagh to remove several useful items such as fur, hide, and horn from it before tearing in. "Well then," said Angela as she reappeared in a long linen gown and thick woolen socks, "shall we get dinner started." The boys agreed and remained in their clothing as they all set upon the kitchen and soon the smell of a lovely venison stew filled the cabin. They washed it down with mulled juniper wine and crab apple mead that had grown on them and which Saphira willingly drank by the barrel. Upon finishing Solembum melded back into his werecat form and slunk out to be with Saphira.

As they set into the den the three of them looked into the roaring fire pit. It was made from one seemingly large cylinder of stone. The truth was that it had been molded by Saphira. She had created a depression in the cave, now lined by pads full of feathers made for her by Murtagh last Yuletide, using her fire. She had licked and rolled the almost molten stone into a single form before forming it into the meter wide pit that now sat at the center of their living space.

"Two years." Angela and Eragon looked up. "And now three," stated Murtagh. The two of them nodded. Three years now they had spent in the North. Eragon was now a young man of nineteen, Murtagh twenty-two, and Angela still refused to tell her age though they knew it was certainly not what it seemed.

"Have you come any closer to making a decision?" Eragon turned to Angela and slowly shook his head no. She nodded, as if that confirmed her thoughts. "Well, young shur'tugal, eventually we'll have to leave our little hidey hole. Though even I must admit I have become fond of this place. So many interesting happenings up here! The plants are rather fascinating." The boys both smiled at her, agreeing completely.

"I must say that when we decided to leave I didn't think we'd make it. Even when we got here I thought we'd sentenced ourselves to a frozen hell. However this place…it has become home." Murtagh sipped from the stout tea Angela always brewed for everyone before bed.

"Yes, but soon I must make a decision and then go from there. Angela, you said you had taught me almost everything you could think of?" The fortune teller turned to him and inspected him with sharp eyes.

"As you know Eragon there are secrets I possess and hold onto dearly. That said you have progressed far in your training and I am glad to have been a part of it. However yes I have almost finished with what I can think to teach you at this time. There is still much for you to learn, but you have mastered most of everything I can think of. What I could teach you of tuatha du orothrim was finished a year ago and since then it's been my own subject matter. Only a proper teacher could finish your education and even then I'm sure it wouldn't take long." Eragon made a noise of acknowledgement. He felt Saphira listening in.

"What do you think," he asked out loud. His companions knew he spoke to Saphira. She projected her voice into the room. "The harsh winter is upon us. We cannot move far from here until it is done. That said Eragon and I must make a decision by the end of the cold season. Soon we must decide." Eragon mulled the words over. As always Saphira made sense. He could feel her personally believing for a while that their path was clear. He however didn't feel the same way, but hadn't voiced it until now. 'I don't know if I'm ready.'

'You are ready, little one. We are ready. We chose this path to ensure our ability to survive and we have. Now the time has come to reappear in the world. Our goals for this endeavor are coming to a close. You have been taught well and have grown. Just as I have. Now is the time to reflect…and prepare for the journey ahead.'

* * *

Eragon awoke slowly, his thoughts slowly coming to form. He slipped from bed, shivering in the chill as he pulled a thick throw blanket around himself. He looked around his room. It was sumptuous, especially considering the area. The house, a two story affair, was built of pale northern ash and his room possessed a soapstone basin for washing, with a hollowed area underneath for burning goals to sit and keep the water warm. A large writing desk, a gift from Murtagh, sat in the opposite corner with a matching chair. The window, glass made from sand Saphira had melted, let in the pale twilight and showed the ground covered in at least a few feet of snow. His large four poster bed was covered in a bearskin comforter and soft sheets. Two large armoires to the left of his bed held most of his clothing and possessions. Two small nightstands possessed oil lamps that he lit with a mumbled, "brisingr."

He walked to the large chest at the foot of his bed and waved his hands over it. Glyphs shined for a second and the latches came undone and the top flew open. Within were his most prized possessions and items. He withdrew some of them and laid them out on the bed. He turned and took two earthenware jugs from beside the basin and left the room. He made four trips and filled the tub with frigid ice water. He had had to crack the surface of the lake to get to it. He took coals from the armoire, made of charcoal and creosote from pine. Despite the fact that it left a thick tar like substance after burning, the creosote helped suffuse the air with a pleasant scent.

He brought the fire to a good level, safe enough for the room, and waited as the water heated. Once it was warm enough he quickly bathed, rubbing himself down with a horse hair brush made from excess hairs cut from Tornac, Murtagh's faithful war-horse. After he was dry he observed his possessions. Undergarments and a form fitting tunic of creamy white made from the fibers of a northern reed called veil willow, a pair of black hide trousers, and thick woolen socks. He dressed himself quickly and pulled on his greaved boots. A jerkin of padded leather, also black with a harness attached to help in carrying items, completed his assemble. He pulled on his gloves and left the room.

Angela, Murtagh, and Solembum were already gathered. The herbalist was always the first to awake. Steaming mugs of coffee in earthenware cups in the shape of owls with a tin pot and cream cup sat on the side of the large fire pit. He greeted them both and set about waking up.

"So," said Murtagh as three sets of eyes trained on him, "we have a large quantity of things to trade. I assumed that by now we'd be looking to apply all of this to trading for our journey."

"I've thought so as well, but if it isn't there are quite a few odds and ends I'd like to purchase." Angela was always procuring the most ridiculous items or supplies that ended up being dreadfully useful. Eragon continued to look at the fire that warmed the center of their home. He sat in contemplation till Solembum dug his claw into his leg. He looked at the werecat and scowled.

"What," he snapped. Solembum looked at him with haughty derision which Angela called a classic cat look. Solembum blinked.

"It is time Oh Dragon Rider. Time to set out on the next step of your journey. It was I who decided to follow you and Angela came with. For three years you have grown and so has Brightscales. Now is the time to begin the next step." He spoke in the Ancient Language. He spoke what he felt was the truth.

"Saphira," he said out loud. Her mind touched every ones. They could sense finality and a sense of obviousness emanating through her.

"I have always known our path Little One. It is time." A great weight settled upon Eragon. 'So…it is indeed time to leave.'

 **Next Chapter: The five companions begin their fellowship. Eragon becomes troubled and an interesting event occurs as they near their first stop in their journey south.**


	2. The Leave Taking, Road Song, and Arrival

**I'd like to say thank you for the positive response, advice, and encouragement I've received since my first posting. My first chapter was rather short, for me, in length. This chapter is about the appropriate length for me. "Meatier" chapters will be even longer.**

 **HAPPY CAUCUS DAY IOWA! I encourage you to register to vote no matter what state you're in! Remember you don't vote for just the President, but every single thing from town council, to state supreme court, to your senators, et cetera. If you're like me you'll be sitting in front of the t.v. tonight obsessing over returns.**

 **catherine10 – Thank you for the review. In terms of character relationships, et cetera I'd like to emphasize that the first chapter was setting the scene. 3 years later, far to the north, and how they had lived their lives. Relationships will be clear and established over time, but not instantly known in a single chapter. Again thank you for the review!**

 **Mad Hatter – Thank you! Yes indeed I have plans for all the characters, and certainly dark ones will appear, but I'll keep silent on Arya…for now ;)**

 **D4ni3l - Arya? again no comment ;)**

* * *

Eragon awoke with a start. He lunged upwards in bed pulling his combat knife from underneath the pillow. He breathed in harshly and took huge gulps of air. The nightmares had caused a thick sheen of sweat to break out over his body. The chill night air quickly made him turn from boiling hot to freezing cold. The memories still came to him in flashes.

 _Red…Black…Pain…Anguish. Eragon looked at the crystal tomb of Brom, tears flowing freely as he beheld the storyteller who had become both mentor and a surrogate father after Garrow. So much he wished to ask him. About his life as a rider, why he hadn't told him, the Varden, and more…_

Eragon slowly put the knife down and rubbed at his eyes. He hated this. For the third night in a row, ever since he had made the decision to journey south, he had been unable to get a full night's sleep. He could feel his body and mind straining at the lack of rest. He squeezed his eyes shut again as another memory leapt forth unwelcomed.

 _Murtagh poked at the fire, a sour expression on his face, and grinded his teeth. Eragon looked at him; hollow eyed and weighed down by grief, as he waited for the man to speak. After a while he looked up and said one word with such finality, "No."_

Suddenly a feeling of warmth engulfed him. 'Little One.' Saphira's mind combined with his and swept away the memories like cobwebs. He could feel her concern emanating across the mental bond. He was silently thankful for her concern, but he knew he needed to delve deeper to solve these issues. It would begin to affect him noticeably were he so tired all the time. 'Meditate as you learned from your readings.' The suggestion from Saphira was a good one. He always felt rested after meditating.

He stood and sat on the bare floor, the cold wood shocking his skin, and breathed deeply and evenly before setting his mind out. Even though it was winter the world around him teemed with life. Coniferous trees and rodents were in abundance, the sea teemed with life deep below the crashing waves, and the bright lights of his companions lives were as radiant as the sun. All that was save Angela and Eragon had long stopped enquiring why she seemed to only possess gossamer strands of starlight around her figure when he meditated. She had guffawed, "well clearly I'm made of starlight and those aren't very bright in comparison to Aiedail now are they." She had then set off into her greenhouse with a twirling of skirts.

Soon he lost himself in the world, letting his mind flit from one place to another. He was never able to focus long when connecting with the whole forest, but he found it odd his concentration was even less fixed. It was a soft chorus of constant voices and concerns. He forced himself to breathe and after a while felt his body relax and come to a resting point. He pulled his mind back into his own form. Saphira's consciousness met him emanating a calm stoicism. He smiled lightly at that. She was ever his present guardian.

'What time is it? I have lost track.' He felt her leave her padded nest and yawn as she approached the cave mouth. A light flurry rained down.

'Tis the hour of twilight when the world still rests, but I feel Solembum, Angela, and Murtagh stirring. You got a few hours which is better than nothing,' she tacked on with annoyance. He knew she wasn't annoyed with him, but at how these nightmares plagued him. Eragon stood and murmured a spell. A blue werelight lit above the basin and he washed by its light.

'It'll be a long time before I can enjoy a consistent wash again.' He felt Saphira's amusement at this.

'I could give you a tongue bath.' He instantly winced. Her barbed tongue had stripped many a deer of hide and flesh in click clean swipes. 'I thought as much.' She was smug.

He toweled off and garbed himself in finer vestments than usual. A silk shirt of robin's egg blue went on first followed by his black hide trousers and jerkin. Pauldrons and vambraces of padded leather with knotted designs of elder trees and set with moonstone leaves went on next. Soft boots lined with wool that went to his knees warmed his feet on the cold morning. He shrugged on his jacket before turning to the trunk.

He unlocked the glyphs and opened the top. He stared down at the neatly packaged items, the valuables wrapped for the harsh journey ahead. He leaned down and pulled out a massive tome bound in what looked like gray skin. He unclasped the twin bronze buckles in the shape of dragon's heads and let the book fall open. The pages were old and almost hummed with energy.

"Du Domia abr Blodh," he murmured. It was one of the two compendiums Angela had given him. It was an old book and its power seemed to seep from the pages. At first it had also seemed to have a malevolent air. Now, after learning many of its secrets hidden beneath the arcane runes, he couldn't imagine being without it. He put it on the bed and wrapped it up in the sheets and fur comforter. He then placed the bundle in the trunk and closed it. With a murmured spell the trunk lifted upwards and glided out the open door. He then looked around.

The armoires, desk, and any other containers were empty of their contents. The oil lamps were packed with other fragile valuables in padded containers or crates. He hated leaving the furniture behind, but it was completely impractical to take it all. He could feel Saphira's own wishes of wanting to take her padded cave depression.

'I thought we had grown strong and hardy up here, but maybe we've become complacent with these comforts.' He heard her snap her jaws over the link.

'And why shouldn't a dragon or rider enjoy comforts,' she said as she left the cave and marched through the snow. 'Also why didn't any of you listen to me about this weather? I made it clear we should leave **after** the winter. Not right as it bloody well starts.'

He strapped on his weaponry that lay on the bed and left the room as he told her, again, 'we need to get to Tordsed. There are supplies we need now if we want to make the journey. We know the area well enough and have it mapped. Angela can navigate the wagon and you can lift it if we have issues. If we encounter storms we can wait them out in the Depth Reaches.' He tumbled down stairs and set about making coffee and tea in the kitchens as well as setting aside jerky and porridge for their morning meal.

Angela appeared just as he finished ladling the mixture of oats, milk, and honey into bowls. Solembum jumped up in cat form and immediately chowed down on the bowl of liver he put out for him. She patted Eragon blearily on the cheek as she sat to eat. They ate in companionable silence. Both knew they didn't need to say much of anything.

A few minutes later Murtagh still hadn't awoken so Solembum crept into his room. Within seconds they heard it. "Blasted overgrown fur ball! What in Angvard's name did you do that for? Get your furry ass out of here." They heard a splash of water, a further howl of annoyance, and the sound of Solembum bounding off the landing, onto the floor, and out the door to join Saphira. They both looked at each other and burst out laughing.

They heard the splashes as Murtagh sunk into his own basin, a simple treated basin of pine. "It's a wash basin, don't need something fancy like out of Uru'baen," he had grumbled when Angela kept bothering him about the silliness of making two lovely basins for them and not a third. The sound of slamming dressers and thuds of him on the stair greeted them as he bound into the kitchen. "That bloody cat of yours," he was cut off with Angela looking up and immediately quipping.

"Will skin you alive faster than you can pull that ridiculous toothpick of a sword out of its equally ridiculous sheath," she then sipped her tea and raised an eyebrow. Murtagh grumbled and sat down and began shoveling food into his mouth. Eragon frowned.

"You don't plan on wearing that in the village do you? Because they may despise the King more so than many others I've known all my life, but I still don't want to tempt them. It's bad enough we're armed to the teeth and leaving. That'll raise enough questions without that sword adding to it." Murtagh gave him an incredulous look.

"Of course I'm not wearing it in the village, but for now I'll keep it. Rather have it on the road than not at all. I'll tuck it away and put on my other when we're close. If I wore it I might as well announce with heralds and trumpets that you're a rider and I'm the son of Morzan."

"You'd announce pretty well with that sharpened bit of ruby and then have no need for trumpets or heralds, ghastly annoying things that they are. Now haul to and get cracking. We want to be out of here before the next snowfall." With that Angela stood and took her items to wash in the lake and pack in the covered wagon. She always did chime in when it was time to crack their heads together. "Young cubs are always rather…well…stupid," is what she had told them many times with a dry voice. They looked at each other and blinked like owls.

"Sometimes she's so…" Murtagh trailed off and looked at Eragon. He smirked and tacked on, "direct?" Murtagh nodded.

"Yet most times she's more slippery than a weasel coated in whale oil," Eragon stated as they washed their dishes in the frigid lake. They both gave them to Angela who was checking a parchment list in the back of the massive wagon. It was rather long at a good fifteen feet and about as high as Saphira's shoulder was when they first arrived in the North. It was rather thick in width too which helped them pack a good deal of items. She packed the last few things and went to the front where Tornac and Snowfire, well-muscled from all of their mountainous adventures, were saddled up to the wagon and ready to go.

"Everything all set?" Murtagh may have asked about the journey, but he looked at their house with clear longing. The bottom foundation of blue stone sheets, molded together with Saphira's flames, held up the thick white pine boards that created their northern abode. The veranda encircling it held all sorts of wild mountain flowers during the summer. The brass lamps that hung on either side of the door had been taken down and set inside. The opaque winter morning light glinted off the glass set in the windows that were carved with twirling owls and trees.

"I'll miss it too believe it or not." They turned. Angela's face had a look of profound sadness. "When Solembum made it his clear wish to follow you both I couldn't help but wonder if the spicy events of life would be lost up here, but alas they were not. It's been rather fun these three years. I particularly liked the second spring when Eragon fell into that ice flow." Murtagh roared with laughter as Eragon set his face in a dour expression. You let a seagull surprise you once and suddenly that's all that's talked about.

'Enough,' Saphira's voice was firm as she stomped up to them all with Solembum resting like a limp chicken in cat form on her bony head. 'We will return one day. You two,' she said looking at Murtagh and Eragon, 'have placed enough wards to ensure it will be decently protected. Angela, you have done your part as well in setting surprises for intruders, and we **will** return. Now let us leave this place before this daughter of the wind decides to get you all moving with tooth and claw.' Solembum jumped down as Saphira spread her wings and roared her challenge to the world. The last free rider and dragon were returning to Alagaesia.

* * *

The harsh words of an Urgal traveling song met Eragon's lightly tapered ears as Angela sang of a traveling raven and crow, a favorite song for the road of hers, as Saphira lazily passed overhead of the wagon. It was early midday, Aiedail starting to descend from its apex. They had made quick progress through the pine forest thanks to the spelled lodestones of quartz set into the wagon's wheels. The spells allowed the wagon to work through snow and slush as well as the patches of ice which quickly melted as if met by a white hot iron. 'We're lucky though. We haven't met the mountain trails yet.' Solembum rode on his back in cat form. Eragon grunted in agreement. The mountain passes would be nothing but difficult.

Murtagh rode next to Angela, the blade he hated so much, Zar'roc, belted at his side. Eragon scanned the horizon. Snowcapped peaks, thick wintry forests, and the smell of the salt sea suffused his senses. 'I'll miss this.' He then heard a whistle and looked down. The wagon had stopped and Murtagh motioned for him to descend. Saphira landed and he lunged down. "What is it?" Murtagh motioned to a set of tracks that Angela was inspecting.

"Angela,' queried Eragon as he came next to her. She was bent down, her traveling cloak billowing around her.

"Urgal, by the looks of it, maybe attracted to my song," she said cheerily as she looked up. She immediately frowned and rolled her eyes. "Oh come now! Get off it you two blockheads. They're not so bad. You really ought to be more cosmopolitan." Murtagh and Eragon had both stiffened, with Murtagh drawing Zar'roc slightly from the sheath.

"Cosmopolitan? After what they did in Yazuac?" Angela again rolled her eyes and turned away. She retrieved a jeweled poniard from beneath her robes as she noticed something. She again kneeled down.

This time she waved them forward and pointed. "Blood. It's fresh." Eragon immediately combined his mind with Saphira and they exploded it outward. They felt the black squirrels, reindeer, and other animals fill with fear as their minds were invaded by the two. Murtagh and Angela watched apprehensively. Eragon's eyes burst open. He drew twin falchions from his back.

"This way," he pointed down towards the cliffs. He crouched and sprang up into the air, twisting into a corkscrew and landed lightly on a branch. He then looped tree to tree. Murtagh went wide to the left with Zar'roc drawn to his right side in a defensive stance. Angela followed him through the trees as Solembum circled to the right. Saphira followed in the air, making sure to fly high enough that she wouldn't be completely visible. Soon enough the roars of battle reached their ears.

They regrouped in the lower branches of a fir tree and watched in amazement as an urgal fought unarmed with a cave bear. The urgal was easily seven and a half feet. He'd clearly reach Kull status. His twisted horns were covered with gore and filth, much like the rest of his body. The bear was no better. Eragon felt Saphira's interest in the proceedings grows as the Urgal bellowed and leapt away from a claw swipe. He then reared back and landed a hard right hook to the bear's jaw. It roared in anguish. "Fascinating," whispered Angela. Murtagh looked at her incredulously.

"It punched a cave bear in the jaw. That sounds rather stupid to me. On top of that he clearly must've woken it. It's winter. Again something to be called stupid." Angela gave him a peeved look.

"We're watching a rite of passage. Urgal's must kill a foe with bare hands to be considered a full member of their society. Even most of them wouldn't dare fight a cave bear." They watched as the Urgal tossed himself on top of the bear's back and wrapped his thick gray skinned arms around its throat. With a mighty heave and roar he pulled the bear's head to the side and they all winced as they heard a great big snap. The head lolled to the side and Eragon felt the bear's life force leave its body. The urgal dropped it, stepped back, and looked at the corpse. He then threw back his head and roared once more and raised his arms. He then began crooning something in his native tongue.

'As riveting as this is,' interrupted Solembum, 'we'd best be off before he lugs it back to his village. We don't need the awkward rumors even if it is among the Urgralgra.' He then leapt to a tree, bounded to the floor, and began slinking back to the wagon. Eragon couldn't help but agree. "On the road again," he muttered.

* * *

By sunset they reached Tordsed. Tordsed was the largest, and that was saying something, settlement north of Ceunon. It lay on a peninsula jutting out into the tongue of the sea that reached down all the way to his old home of Carvahall. The peninsula was close to the narrow opening that lead out to the sea. Thanks to the spelled wagon they arrived with good timing, but normally the journeys took them a good day and a half, more if weather was bad. They would have arrived just as the sun's bottom hit the horizon, but the detour due to the urgal had consumed time. Eragon was glad they had left in early twilight and spelled the wagon the first day of planning for their trip.

'Where will you lay,' he queried to Saphira. She sent him an image of a cavern, shallow, but high above them and insulated enough from cold.

'Close enough if there is trouble yet far enough to avoid suspicion. I will hunt now for I have need of energy for the tasks ahead.' She then flew off into a valley to hunt a herd she had seen grazing. She would indeed need energy. She would be carrying the wagon under cover of darkness to the other side of the sea tongue.

Eragon and Murtagh saddled the horses as Solembum switched into his human form and donned soft gray garments of veil willow, a jerkin of padded leather with a roaring cats head in onyx on the front, and matching grieved boots and bracers. He strapped the black dagger he fought with to his side and covered up his clawed hands with gloves. The village was surrounded by twin palisades with a thick trench full of sharpened stakes in the ground. The gates were iron bound and tar smeared. As they approached the wary guards, engulfed by fur cloaks, but sharp eyed and wilding wicked looking pikes, perked up at the sight of them.

"Ho' Evan! And Tanner, Lady Ella, and young Noll too!" Eragon smiled pleasantly. He always liked Baelrick and hoped that one day he could introduce his real self. However self-preservation came first.

"Hello Baelrick," he said adopting his thick hoarse voice he used when there. "How has the nights watch been? Hello to you Galbur," he added nodding to his counterpart who smiled and waved in return.

"Been right nasty Evan, right nasty. Urgals are more stirred up than ever and the flocks are more disturbed than usual. Crops didn' grow enough this summer, which's normal considerin, but not like this. Somethin ain't right in the world." The four of them perked up at that. They always listened for news. Angela frowned and leaned forward, "really now? Well this might explain happenings up by us and hence our decision." Both guards became somber and nodded, but didn't take the bait and engage in more gossip.

"Yar we heard from young Pedrin you had decided to leave for warmer climates. Near Surda if what we heard is true," said Galbur. The four nodded and Murtagh launched into the tale they had constructed.

"Yes my sister's family lives in a village known as Eastcroft, along the plains. Too close to that blackened King for my taste, but too many harsh happenings. Need a change of scenery, but mayhaps we're back one day." Murtagh had ridden Saphira down a few leagues to the home of Pedrin and his extended family. They were hunters, skinners, and tanners who maintained a small farm in the spring and summer. They had taken a message from Murtagh that informed people of their plan to leave. It would help cover their tracks with others supporting their story.

"Well we'd best be going in, sun is almost down and you'll want to close the gate," said Angela cheerily. They nodded and stepped aside to let them pass while incurring promises to join the villagers for a drink in the tavern so they could say farewells. After they passed through Murtagh said, "step one complete…and Eragon cast a damn spell to cover those spear tips you call ears!"

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Eragon's dreams continue and grow in length. What is he reliving, but most importantly why? On top of that the companions gather supplies and some news in Tordsed. What will they hear and how will they react?**

 **End Notes: If you check my profile you will find a running list of characters and the RL people that I use as models, it'll be updated as people of importance appear. End Notes will be used to define any original material I've created (items, places of importance)**

 **1) Veil Willow - a northern reed plant that looks similar in appearance to aloe vera stalks, slightly thinner, and a stormy blue color. It ends by blossoming open into puffs of fluffy white strands.**

 **2) Du Domia abr Blodh - The Dominance of Blood, a compendium, one of two books gifted to Eragon by Angela (more to come)**

 **3) The Depth Reaches - no comment...yet**

 **4) Tordsed - A village far to the north of Ceunon, on the same side of the Spine as Carvahall. Approximately twenty leagues (using U.S. measurements here, approx. 3 miles) upwards. Technically within the Spine, but the villagers consider it to be bordering. Close to a narrow channel.**


	3. Dark Tidings in Tordsed

**Hello everyone...Well if you're like me then the Iowa Caucus burned you out and you're bemoaning the fact that this isn't even over and just actually started so you're upping your intake of caffeine and alcohol to stem the tide of insanity that is politics...Now that that's out of the way...**

 **Thank you again for the reviews and I encourage any new readers to review please. I am very happy to have seen consistent reviewers for the first two chapters and hope that continues. I would definitely like to see more, even if they are guest reviews, and I will try and respond to them, as I've stated on my profile, at the start of each new chapter.**

 **Naerys Targaryen/D4ni3l/Mad Hatter - Since the Arya question has been asked so much I will give a hint. Don't think servant of the King, but think about the effects of abandonment. Darker themes is the right way to go for her. I'm sorry, but Arya will give you plenty of hand wringing.**

 **Elemental Dragon Slayer - I hope you're ready for the long haul haha. I'm a fast writer who likes to go back and tweak and change until I'm satisfied. This journey will indeed be long, especially as it gets to where I need it to be, but certain parts will go fast. For example they've already left their cabin. Certain parts of the journey, just like in the books, will be glossed over.**

 **catherine10 - Again I'd like to remind you as I stated in my last response on chapter 2 that this is just the start and, as stated above, I hope you're ready for the long haul. I will indeed tell you all why Murtagh wields Zar'roc, but not now and not in the near future. It _is_ something important and you'll see why further on, but patience haha. It's a good virtue to have. ****Now on to coffee...I find this a rather odd point as I don't know what you mean by "back then" as this is a fanficiton work based off of a fantasy novel. On top of that if you mean to compare the technological point of the Inheritance Cycle to a point in history I will argue that coffee was indeed in existence/use in Mesoamerican and African Cultures at a comparable point in time. On top of that coffee can easily be grown in Alagaesia. Coffee requires a warm subtropical climate as well as a hilly/mountainous area to grow. Ethiopia, for example, is in the midst of a massive drought, but is still the world's top exporter of coffee due to the climate in the upper elevations of the country. These conditions could easily be met in the southern provinces of the Empire, Surda, and the southern Beor mountains. Also the elves could easily grow coffee beans due to their magic as could others.**

* * *

" _No," asked Eragon with incredulity. Murtagh picked his chin up further and stared at him, stone faced._

" _No." Eragon felt his annoyance turn to anger and immediately began forming an argument against him. Saphira suddenly fanned her wings, the fire sending a dizzying array of shadows around the camp. She spoke with a serene voice._

' _Let him speak.' She turned to Murtagh. 'Why, swordsman, are you so obstinate to this course of action?' He refused to meet her gaze. She huffed, smoke slipping from her nostrils. 'Shall I pin you underneath my tender claws to get an answer?' He jerked away as she tapped her talons in succession on the hard earth. She leaned her huge head down and nudged him till he looked her in one of her brilliant blue eyes._

 _Murtagh finally turned to Eragon, looking more peeved than anything, and falsely started before rushing out with it. "I can't go to the Varden. They will want and ask me of things I cannot give or even pretend to promise to give. Going to them would be as bad as going to Gil'ead." As Eragon opened his mouth to protest the surface argument Murtagh rushed on. "I heard things Eragon, right before I escaped, and they set a pit in my stomach that I haven't felt since a young child!"_

 _He stood and paced like a mad man; his fists set to his temples, and went on. "Northern lords compensated generously, rumors of massive troop movements; Gil'ead was mentioned numerous times, more than it should even though it's the marshaling point for Galbatorix's army. The Varden were consistently discussed and I even heard mentions of dwarves. Whatever is going on it has set the country aflame and_ _ **I do not want any part of it!**_ _" He bellowed his final words._

 _Eragon leaped up determined and angry…_

Eragon's eyes suddenly flew open and he sucked in a huge lungful of air. He saw a slight light and looked down. His hand, hanging off the side of the bed, was aglow. The gedwey ignasia was burning as bright as possible, like a miniature lantern. He stared at the diffused oval and breathed harshly.

Suddenly Saphira clambered into his thoughts. He melded with her, sharing the dream, and how he awoke suddenly. She was tense. 'You are reliving the decision.' She spoke with a sense of foreboding and concern. He nodded though she could not see him. He hunched over and put his hands in his lap, staring down.

"Why though," he muttered, "why is this happening? What good comes of reliving a decision I made and stuck to three years ago?" He quickly decided to meditate on the matter. He pulled himself into the position and immediately cast his mind outwards as he evened his breathing. Suddenly he was met with the feeling of his mind shooting in all directions. Saphira growled low in his mind as he attempted to rein in his thoughts.

* * *

"You look like a salmon fresh up the river," greeted Angela cheerily as Eragon wandered into the common room of The Claw Hearth which was Tordsed's tavern/inn. A three floored building of thick logs, a double thatched roof, and good food and drink which was an excellent way station for the north. Many traders, especially whalers and those who traveled to the northern isles for the seithr plant, stopped there on the journey. He slumped into his seat. They had arrived in Tordsed and immediately parked the wagon, securing it, and paid for rooms.

"Nervous about the journey," he mumbled. No use in troubling everyone else on top of Saphira. Solembum seemed to care less as he gulped down a glass of thick cream. Murtagh was counting out coins. He handed the largest amount to Angela who pocketed them with a grin. He pushed the rest towards Eragon.

"I'm nervous too, and I have close to as much reason as you do, unlike little miss sunshine over here or the overgrown house cat" Angela sent him a rude gesture and deadpan look while Solembum hissed. "Spending the coin on what we need should put you at ease, especially since you'll be getting arrows, and don't forget to get provisions of meat and cured vegetables. With what you buy we'll have enough till we reach Belatona."

"Yes, yes, yes all's well and good with his stick thrower and the need for goodies. I still have more important things to buy and best be cracking. Watch out for wild hamsters." She stood and glided out the tavern, Solembum quick on her heels, as Murtagh blinked owlishly. Eragon ordered tea and breakfast.

"Well then…I best get to the smithy. Need a new hammer head and a good helping of nails for the wagon." He clasped Eragon on the arm and left, leaving coins behind to pay for his breakfast beer and sausage. Eragon mumbled his thanks as Marvum, a buxom young lass Murtagh routinely sought out when in Tordsed, put a plate of bacon, eggs, and fresh bread with wildberry preserve in front of him. He smiled in thanks and dug in. 'I'll need the energy,' he thought with annoyance. Day Four of little sleep and he was growing more annoyed by the hour.

Eragon finished, paid, and sought out the general goods store. Normally he'd have gone to the smithy for arrows, but the general good store served as a jack of all trades in a way. It was a trading post for trappers, hunters, and other such professionals, a supply shop, and also a good place to hear gossip. Eragon stomped inside and looked around. Neat wooden shelves with everything on them from woven woolen blankets to raw walrus tusks met him. Behind a tall whitewashed counter to the back stood Meachum. He approached him and stuck out his hand. Meachum grasped it.

"Bye the Gods, Evan, I hear this is th' last I'll be sein' you." Eragon smiled ruefully.

"Fraid' so, friend," he said adopting his accent. "These three years have been good, but as you know many a strange tiding has come. Time to relocate to friendlier climates. Thought we could escape by coming north and settling by the sea. Now I'd rather waste away in that blasted desert." They laughed together.

"Can't say I blame ya', but then again I could never leave. It's home, has been for me for too many years, but I understand." They shared a sad knowing look. Meachum looked away eventually.

"So," he said turning around and slapping his wrinkled fist on the counter, "what can I get ya?" Eragon smiled.

"I need a good four dozen arrows, ready for flight, as well as a crate of cured meat. Salted pork and venison if you have it. Two crates of cured vegetables round out my order." Eragon withdrew the leather drawsting bag of coin. Meachum nodded and began procuring the items. Soon enough four bundles of arrows wrapped in twine and three identical pine crates were piled high. Eragon counted out the crowns, leaving his bag considerably lighter. "When you load all this, come on back, got somethin' for ya." Eragon frowned.

"Tha' won't be necessary Meachum. You've done en," he was cut off by the sound of the quartz stone bell going off above the door. They both turned and looked. Meachum stiffened and Eragon felt his insides go cold. Two soldiers, red flames outlined with gold thread on their surcoats, entered and began perusing the shelves. They both watched the soldiers as if a deadly predator had entered their territory.

"Go, an' don' come back till they be gone," whispered Meachum harshly. Eragon didn't need telling twice. He thanked Meachum with a thicker accent than usual and false cheer. He piled his provisions and nudged open the door, keeping his pace even as he walked to the overhand of the inn. Murtagh stood next to Tornac, unsaddled from the wagon, and was brushing him down. A bundle of nails and a new hammer sat on the wagon seat. Eragon dumped the items unceremoniously and looked at Murtagh who stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Imperial soldiers, at Meachum's."

"Get Angela and Solembum **now,** "Murtagh strode inside the inn. He cast out his mind and immediately pulled it back in. It had rushed everywhere and anywhere. 'Fool,' he said to himself, 'what if they have magicians?' He breathed deep for a few moments before locking down a tendril of thought, with difficulty, and spreading it outward. It took him much longer than usual, and he was panting by the end, but he contacted the two and informed them.

'On our way,' said Angela in a tight voice. She then blocked him off. Eragon retreated into his mind. Thankful for the rider's mental link, he roared across it.

' **Saphira!** ' She came to him and he felt her immediately take flight as she processed what was going on.

'I'll be flying quick and high, but right above, if there's trouble we'll need to leave fast. Make sure the wagon straps are ready to go. You can all ride the horses to the crossing.' Eragon looked up as Angela and Solembum appeared with Murtagh. She withdrew her jeweled poniard, steel but the handle carved from fire opals and set with silver. In the other hand was a vial of acrid green potion. Solembum's eyes darted in all directions as he backed himself to a post. Murtagh appeared with his hand-and-a-half sword at his side. Wrapped in cloth across his back was Zar'roc. His black ash composite bow, strung, was in his hand, an arrow clutched as well.

"By Rahna's left tit! I had heard rumors at the healer's shop that soldiers had been appearing. It matches what we heard last night at supper. Blast it!" Angela set her mouth tightly, lines appearing at the corner of her lips. Murtagh nodded.

"Baelrick's son, Alden, is an apprentice at Cahl's, and he said they have moved more and more troops to the Spine than they have ever seen. I didn't think we'd run in to any because I'd have imagined we would've seen them in Claw Hearth and on the road." Eragon looked around. He spotted one soldier enter through the gate on horseback. Angela followed his eyes and quickly motioned everyone further into the lean to lest they look suspicious.

"First off," Angela motioned to her and Murtagh, "we need to be more circumspect lest we are noticed." She sheathed her weapon and Murtagh grumbled but did the same.

"Secondly," stated Eragon, "for all we know this is merely the Empire reasserting control over areas long known to not be cared for? We need more information." Eragon pressed a hand to his temple, by the end of his words his head was throbbing. Angela brightened at that, her mood changing.

"The young rider has a head on his shoulders. All this frigid weather hasn't frozen your brain after all." He looked at her, looked at her jeweled poniard, and then looked back. She looked down then stared back before huffing, "oh like I can't have a flipped reaction every now and again. Excuse me if I don't want to leave Tordsed with my skirts a-twirling at a hail of spears."

"Enough. Eragon's right. We'll need more info. The soldiers will be bound to be in the inn tonight. We can work sources there." Eragon then informed them of Saphira's request which they both agreed with. They retrieved the large hide thongs that strapped through loops on four posts around the wagon. After them agreeing upon a meeting time Eragon told them he had to go back to Meachum's and they still had to acquire supplies. As he wandered back to the store, albeit eyes jumping here and there with increased wariness, Saphira contacted him.

'We should leave Tordsed sooner rather than later,' and Eragon couldn't help but agree.

* * *

Meachum looked up and his face immediately softened as Eragon came back. Clearly he was expecting the soldiers. Eragon grimaced, "any news out o' them?" The storekeeper nodded and motioned him forward.

"I had been tryin' for days to get somethin' out o' them and finally worked. Seems the King is goin' after them Urgals again. Wants 'em all dead s'far as the soldiers could tell. Said old Galbatorix is in a right state abou' somethin' happenin' a few years back. Somethin' with them and he don' mean when his army disappeared into those blasted mountains." Eragon made a noise of acknowledgment and introspection. He put his chin in his hand.

'What could the Urgals have done that he's this upset…' He felt Saphira's interest in the matter and heard her own thoughts begin to form ideas.

"Well…seems a smarte' decision than ever to leave then," said Meachum breaking Eragon out of his thoughts. He smiled sadly and nodded.

"So you said ya wanted me back," he gestured wide, "so here I am." Meachum grinned at that and set down the box of sea glass lamp he was polishing. He left the room and came back with another crate and set it down.

"Here ya go," and motioned for Eragon to look inside. Within he found two dozen arrows, elm shafted and fletched with osprey feathers. The ends were barbed and crafted of steel. They were finer than most of the arrows he had purchased before in the north. A pile of meat wrapped in cloth was next to them, and rounding it out was a small wooden chest and a length of white rope. Eragon looked up smiling sheepishly.

"This wasn't necessary," he told Meachum who waved him off.

"You'll be on th' road Evan," he said with a firm voice, "you'll all need as much as ya can get. Thought I could help a littl' is all." Eragon's cheeks burned. The generosity of these hardy survivors always surprised him. He reached down for the small wooden chest and popped it open. He was met with a large pile of russet colored leaves, dried. He looked up and cocked his head to the side.

"That'd be wild nightfoil. Dried. Makes a fine healin' tea if ya ask me." Eragon closed it and put it back. He looked up and put his hand forth. Meachum grasped it.

"Forge ahead, Meachum."

"Live well, Evan."

* * *

Night seemed to fall quickly and Eragon found that he was exhausted as was quickly becoming the normal for him. However he did meet with Murtagh, Angela, and Solembum on the porch of the inn at the agreed upon time. They entered the noisy and crowded establishment. Murtagh smirked at Marvum whose apple cheeks turned a further shade of red. She led them to a table where Solembum looked at Murtagh and quipped two words before ducking away from Murtagh's attempted head slap, "man whore." Baelrick and other's joined them as Fendrick, the owner and barkeep, set down a plate of mountain goat and slabs of pork. Caramelized onions and rosemary potatoes with diced carrots followed. It ended with several large flagons of blackberry mead and honey ale. Everyone dug in with gusto, sharing stories of the last three years, laughing uproariously at various points. Eragon's fall into the ice flow was repeated with much joy by Angela.

Eragon leaned back after draining another glass of mead. The smell of coal dust, roasted meat, and the sweetness of the mead filled his nostrils with a pleasant aroma. He felt relaxed for the first time in days. However this was not to last as a boisterous group of five soldiers appeared in the doorway. One of them immediately pinched Marvum in the bottom and winked as he demanded a table for him and his comrades. Murtagh, Balerick, and the others stiffened. Angela leant forward ever so slightly so only Murtagh and Eragon would hear.

"Remember, don't cause a scene. We need information. Eragon you told us the king wants the Urgals gone. We need to know why he's on this foolish endeavor again. Don't blow this up," she grasped Murtagh's wrist which had gone to his sword.

Eragon heard a thump and watched as Solembum slunk into the shadows. He followed him with his eyes and watched as a blur of shadow appeared in the high rafters, slinking from shaded spot to shaded spot. He set himself down directly above the soldiers, he's ears perked up, and eyes closed. Nobody would see him unless they looked intently. He leaned to Angela and motioned surreptitiously. She looked up, narrowed her eyes, and quickly excused herself for the privy. She returned a few minutes later, her bag curiously larger.

Baelrick watched with narrowed eyes, lines of disdain set on his face, as the soldiers made complete fools of themselves. Fendrick took it upon himself to serve them; saving Marvum, but they seemed intent on bothering her as she couldn't avoid their table. It was right next to the kitchen doors. "Tell me, Baelrick, any truth to the rumors we heard of the King trying to wipe out the Urgals again," Angela used a perfectly light tone and sipped her mulled dessert wine. He looked at her, grim, and shrugged.

"No, ma'am, not so sure at all." He leaned forward at Eragon looked at him intently. "Rumor is that he's tryin' to wipe 'em, but truth be told I hear somethin' else. I hear he's lookin' for somethin', somethin' he wants. Soldiers have been talkin' bout diggin' somethin' up even further north of here. The Frost Tip is said to be where they are all headed." Angela's eyebrows went up at this and she looked at him with more curiosity.

"Really now," she nodded, "that's a rather odd place. I can't imagine anyone having gone there since…" Baelrick nodded.

"Since the Riders flew over the land."

* * *

 _Eragon leapt up. "Well if you'd just tell me what exactly the problem is then maybe I would understand further! I don't care about rumors. Brom didn't die for me to wander around the Empire or flee from Galbatorix! He taught me a great deal, but if anything he made it clear Saphira and I would be forced to face him one day! If we are to do that we need to train and have support!" Murtagh laughed derisively._

" _And what makes you think that you could even so much as_ _ **dent**_ _the King's shield even with training? You're a child!" Eragon roared and lunged at him, striking him across the face. Murtagh rolled with the blow and struck back in the gut. He then moved to chop Eragon on the back, but he spun around to Murtagh's back and kicked him hard on the calf. He grunted and fell. As he turned to get up and strike, just as Eragon moved to hit him again, they were both winded as Saphira's massive tail came down upon them._

' _ **ENOUGH**_ _,' she roared openly across the mental link accompanied by a barrel chested growl. Eragon's headache became worse at that and Murtagh was taking big gulps of air to compensate._

' _A rider and his savior brawling like common brats! What would Brom say!?' Her head appeared above them both. Eragon's cheeks burned and he turned away. 'Look at me, now, Eragon. You too Murtagh.' He did. She stared for a while and then spoke with clipped tones, 'I will let you up if you promise to hear me out and to_ _ **not**_ _fight one another. If you do neither of these things I will pin you both, with claw this time, and wait till morn.' After a while they both nodded and got to their feet, wincing, and moving away._

' _Better,' she said with a tone that implied a smirk. She then settled herself down primly. 'Now, I am tired, full of sorrow for the Old One, and hungry for both prey, and the blood of those foul Ra'zac. That said we have a legitimate dilemma that must be solved_ _ **now**_ _.' Both men just crossed their arms. She looked back and forth before continuing._

' _Murtagh, will you still refuse to travel to Gil'ead, to the man Brom instructed me on?' He jerked his head yes. She stared at him for a long while and her tongue darted out. He backed away. 'I smell fear on you. An unhealthy amount for one so strong,' she then turned away as he scowled. 'Eragon.'_

 _He looked at her. 'What, Little One, do you wish to do? We can part ways, journey with him, or chart some middle course though I currently see none. Think wisely and quickly…'_

A hand batted at Eragon's face. He groaned and thrust away at it. Again it batted at him. He noticed it was furrier and finally realized something was sitting. He thrust himself upwards and his knife was knocked aside by Solembum who was nose to nose with him. 'You realize how stupid that was right?' He just blinked at the cat before scowling and flopping back while rubbing at his face. He looked out the window and groaned. It had been night when he fell asleep, Solembum refusing to tell them what he had heard, and it was still night now.

'You slept a handful of hours. You really ought to do something about this dream problem of yours.' With that he leapt off the bed. 'Come.' He slipped out the open door of his and Murtagh's room. Eragon grumbled as he pulled on hide trousers and his boots. Before he left he threw a few logs on the fire of their brazier, making sure to blowing on the embers to get it going, for he dared not use magic with the soldiers around.

Solembum waited for him at the stairs and immediately bounded down to the first floor. Eragon followed him outside into the frigid air. The moon was low now, it was very early in the morn and he was already feeling his mind strain. He saw the flick of Solembum's tail at the corner and followed. Soon enough they were at the first palisade. Solembum flicked a paw out at the gate. Eragon and he were luckily covered by shadows, but at the gate torches were blazing with light. Soldiers, a good deal of them, saddled horses and filled carts. They were alert and spoke in low voices. They all wore the surcoat of the King's Army, underneath wearing chainmail hauberks, coifs, padded leather caps, and greaved boots.

He turned to Solembum and whispered, "Do you know if any spellweavers are among them?" The cat flicked his shaggy mane side to side. 'Damn,' thought Eragon. "What're they saying?"

Solembum flicked his ear in annoyance but spoke, "they are discussing a dig of some king. Pits of earth and stone…inconsequentially one mentions a soldier he knows who lost a hand…great machines being used to cut through the earth. They search of something…" He trailed off and for a few moments shut his eyes before springing upwards and backing away. His hair was on end. Eragon backed with him. If Solembum was worried then he was as well. He dared not speak.

Suddenly a hand crept around his mouth and he jerked in shock. His worry quickly faded as Angela appeared. Her poniard again drawn and this time three darts of a greenish colored wood with yellow feathers also clasped in the same hand. She stared with narrowed eyes at the soldiers. She flicked her eyes to Eragon and whispered something that made his blood run cold. "They mentioned a Shade."

* * *

They stole away back to the inn where they woke Murtagh and Angela related what they had all seen and heard. He swore explosively and got out of bed. "We leave now. Tell Saphira to head for the shoreline." Eragon reached through the link. Saphira hadn't played a role in the rest of the events of the day for she slumbered deeply once assured they weren't in too much danger, just yet. She had eaten a great deal and now slept to conserve energy and digest her food. She came to life slowly and then leaped up alert as Eragon relayed one word, 'Shade.'

'I'll meet you at the shore. Arm yourself and be ready. Use magic and mind if you have to. Damn everything else.' He bounded downstairs, taking care to be quiet for it was still night, and went to the wagon. He slipped in and found Angela strapping Murtagh into his armor. The pauldrons and vambraces were set together and the piece went over his head, two straps of hard leather crossing his chest in an X. Underneath he wore his mail shirt. Mail-backed leather thigh pieces went over his pants and he finished with greaved boots. He strapped Zar'roc and his hand-and-a-half sword to his back.

"Eragon" breathed Angela quickly, "no time for you to don your armor. Murtagh will be the heavy force tonight. You need to help with the wagon." He stared at her with incredulity. She huffed. "Solembum watches the gate and those soldiers aren't moving any time soon. If there is a shade anywhere near here we want to be gone as fast as possible. Crossing the sea tongue is going to be ridiculously difficult now if we have that black sorcerer around."

"What exactly do you have planned?" Eragon did not like where this was going.

* * *

 **Next Chapter: The heroes escape from Tordsed hits a few snags and Eragon faces the consequences of memory and fear.**

 **End Notes:**

 **The Claw Hearth – This is Tordsed's inn/tavern. Three stories of black pine and a double thatched roof with blue stone shingles on top this is a favorite haunt of all villagers in Tordsed. It lays in the middle of the town across to the left from a large lantern that marks the town center.**

 **Baelrick, Marvum, Meachum, Fendrick – These are villagers from Tordsed who have more than a lack of love for flag and country. They, as well as most if not all of Tordsed's villagers, hate the Empire with every fiber of their being. Being so isolated, more so than Carvahall, Narda, or Ceunon**

 **Nightfoil – A northern herb, light purple in cover with small spear headed shaped leaves that grow on a light brown covered brush. Good for medicinal tea among other things.**

 **The Frost Tip – This is the human name for the northern tailbone of the Spine. It is a notoriously cold, unpleasant place that is perpetually ice covered and barren.**

 **Sea Tongue – the strip of sea that flows down to the Anora River and Carvahall. Tordsed lies at the inner opening of the sea tongue; a narrow channel with the spine on both sides and after the channel lays the upper part of the tongue that leads to open sea and the ends of the Spine/northern border of Alagaesia.**


	4. A Dragon Ferry

**New Hampshire come and gone, thank goodness. For those of you who may wonder what is my obsession with politics it is a lifestyle for me. That said politics will be added soon enough to the story, though you can happily survive till double digit chapters without them.**

 **Please, Please, Please read my updated profile with cultural information. I am thinking of adding a separate "story" that will serve as an encyclopedia of sorts. Let me know what you think in the reviews. Again I encourage everyone to review. This chapter is my least favorite so far and gave me an inordinate amount of trouble. Unfortunately the events are critical to the plot, as I'm sure you'll figure out quickly if you think about it, but I'm glad it's over with and we can move onwards.**

 **Naerys Targaryen - Thank you for all of the kind words and encouragement. You are a breath of fresh air.**

 **Elemental Dragon Slayer - Romance is indeed coming up, but not as fast as some may like. Yes Glenwing and Faolin are indeed dead, but they will be revisited. They did die near Osilon...**

 **catherine10 - Yes, coffee has been recorded as being drunk within Sufi Monasteries in Yemen, I believe, as early as the 10th century. I am also a coffee fanatic myself ^_^. In terms of mind speech it's something I've considered. I use single quotes (') versus double (") to notate mind speech. That said I can see how this may be difficult. I have many chapters written already, but I'll be happy to make the switch.**

 **Pardra - Thank you!**

* * *

It'd taken cajoling and calm headed logic to convince Eragon that Angela's quickly thought of plan was the only way. When it had seemed impossible he'd go along Murtagh finally smacked him upside the head. "Brom had plenty of harebrained schemes you fool. How'd you think he killed Morzan? I gamble it's because he was inventive," hissing the last line. He pulled on a massive gray wool blanket and crouched low to the ground moving off to get in position. Solembum clambered up the side of a house and onto a roof, bounding after him. Angela had changed into a common dress that let her womanly features be shown. With that she pushed at Eragon to get a move on.

He grumbled as he donned common clothing as well. Then they began to remove anything of importance such as the pieces of the catamaran, tent, and their collapsible lean to. When all that remained was normal supplies such as cured foodstuffs and tools they harnessed the horses and pulled the wagon out and angled for the gate. "Let's hope this works," he muttered. Angela hit him.

* * *

"Evening boys," said Angela in a smoky voice, her winter cloak falling open slightly to reveal the low cut front of her dress. Eragon rolled his eyes, lying under the blankets in the back. He had thrown water on his face after rubbing it against the blanket to make it warm and red. He heard the appreciative sounds of the soldiers as they began to converse with Angela, many of them making a not to subtle comment here or there. After what seemed like forever, he had begun to sweat since the blankets were heavy; the sound of hooves approached his tapered ears, now covered by the thick hair of his head as a spell would be too risky.

"What's all of this lagging about," said a stern voice. The soldiers immediately snapped to.

"Oh hello there, you must be their commander. Sorry 'bout this, but tis a cold winters night and my mother taught me to thank those on duty." The commander harrumphed.

"Unlikely considering the less than warm welcome we receive whenever we come here." Angela tut-tutted.

"Come now commander. Don't judge a girl so quickly. I moved here to join my brother's family. There was work for a seamstress and governess in his household. Better it be family then expend what little coin they have on some near-do-well. Wouldn't you agree," and Eragon practically saw his brain, his eyes went so high.

"I'll not be taken in by your wiles woman. What's in the cart," and the sound of him reining his horse closer came as did the thud of a spear shaft bouncing against the side.

"This, good sir, is a wagon," she said coquettishly. "If you must know there are supplies in there and my nephew, deep asleep with fever." Eragon heard some of the soldiers shift away. "Oh come now I'm sure he's not infectious otherwise I'd be done by now." The commander grunted again.

"Darl! Mason! Check the wagon. Now!" With that two soldiers warily approached the back and climbed in. Eragon shut his eyes and set about making his breath raspy and shivered lightly. The soldiers checked over the goods with uninterested eyes as they approached. He could feel them staring down. Angela popped her head through the canvas flap.

"Poor dearie, isn't he?" They continued to look down. The spear shaft bounced against the side of the wagon again.

"Well?" The commander was impatient. One of the two leaned down and removed his glove to feel Eragon's forehead. Hopefully it worked. He pulled back after a few seconds.

"Aye sir. The boy is feverish and covered in sweat. His breath rattles like he be filled with small stones." The commander grunted in a somewhat disappointed manner.

'Hah,' thought Eragon, 'take that.' He felt Saphira, who had been watching, sigh. She then grumbled.

'Don't be so assured yet hatchling. The harebrained part of the scheme comes next.' He saw through her eyes as she flew low to the shoreline and landed. She flattened herself to a rock and began crawling as silently as she could, which was impressive considering the fact she was an "overgrown fire breathing lizard" as Brom fondly called her, to the closest point from where they would depart from.

Angela bandied a few more words, introduced herself as Ella, then made it clear she wished to get on the road to, "get home and take care of the poor boy." The soldiers let her past, the commander clearly having hoped to catch criminals but having no reason to keep her, and they rode up the road. The moment they were out of sight she pulled the wagon over and pitched the horses to chew on the sparse grass. She leaned in and knocked Eragon on the head. "Up and at em'. Time to go to work."

* * *

Murtagh heaved the package of items upwards. Sweat coated his body and he was warmer than he should've been for the frigid climate. The moon was dropping low in the sky. And he knew they had to work fast. That said it wasn't exactly easy hauling items up a ramp to the palisades walkway, flipping the ramp over the trench to the other palisade, delicately directing things across, and then lowering everything slowly to the ground with ropes at the end.

"Where," he whispered in a wheezy voice, "did," he took a deep breath, "you get this damn contraption." He pushed again and the bundle went up and over to the walkway. Solembum smiled cheekily. He was the picture of grace and poise.

"Fendrick told Angela when she asked what the large slab of pallets was against the other side of the inn's overhang. They set it across the iced over portions of river to help cattle cross when moving them to pastures. Rather silly if you ask me. Should just build a bridge and save yourself the trouble, but I'm rather glad they didn't." Murtagh grimaced as they got to the top.

They began heaving the ramp up, a difficult thing to do quietly. They had tied cloth around the cast iron rails on the bottom to keep it from sounding when they lowered it down as silently as possible. Three times already they had done this, but it was finally almost done. One more trip and then they'd bring the wagon around, load up, and be off. They lifted slowly, bringing the ramp up horizontally and then sliding it across the trench. Before it could fall it reached the other side and set down with a light thump.

As they heaved the supplies across the ramp, stepping carefully and quietly, Murtagh noticed a cluster of lights start to appear on the left end of the section of the palisade. He stopped and motioned with his head to Solembum. He turned, looked, then quickly looked back and jutted his head forward multiple times. His eyes had gone from black to the yellow slit ones of a feline in an instant. They began moving as fast as possible. Just as they reached the end, with a fair bit of noise, they heard the tramping of iron shod boots as a cluster of soldiers began to appear closer.

"What in the…" started off the leader. He moved to shout at them. Quick as a hummingbird Solembum dropped their load and spun with unnatural speed, lunging forward, his outline becoming blurry, and struck out with his sharp claws as he re-materialized. Two soldiers dropped instantly, but he wasn't quick enough. The soldier in front of him fit a horn to his lips and blew. A jarring noise rang forth and almost instantly the sound of stampeding foots and the cries of soldiers wondering what the commotion was. Solembum leaped and fastened his fangs around the man's throat, felling the soldier who had alerted the others. The final one had had time to draw a short sword and held up his buckler, deflecting Solembum as he leapt again. Without wasting time to check if the soldier was protected by wards Murtagh thrust out his hand.

"Jierda," he growled out. The man's head snapped at a perfect one hundred-eighty degree angle and he fell over the walkway and was impaled on the sharpened staves below. Solembum came bounding back. He transformed and stood in the nude.

"Break the ramp," he yelled as he threw items below, not caring to lower them with the rope. Murtagh turned back and reached for his magic. He looked at the ramp and focused on cracks in the middle pallet.

He drew glyphs in the air for breaking, hissing out, "thrysta," and launching them forward. With a rush the ramp imploded, splintering metal and wood. By now soldiers were running along, following the sounds. Soon lanterns shone across the way and over a dozen soldiers were clear as day. They gaped at the three dead swordsmen and the fourth below. Two had bows and knocked arrows.

"Let's go!" He flipped around, the arrows whizzing by, grabbed onto Solembum, and they leapt over the edge, rappelling to below. They landed hard. Solembum went about gathering everything up. "Barzul! Where is he," Murtagh said with exasperation and worry. He reached out to contact Eragon, but a jarring cacophony of noises and emotions met him.

'What in the,' he began to think before quickly shoving the thought away. Now was not the time. 'Saphira,' he bellowed out in his mind, 'contact your damned rider!' He was met with dead silence before she answered.

'He is on his way, hold tight, and move behind the outcropping of rock a few hundred feet to the northeast from your position. Hurry!' Murtagh relayed the news to the werecat who immediately gathered up items and ran pell-mell. They moved, trying to keep quiet as lights blazed along the perimeter of the palisade and the sound of the village awakening met their ears.

They set down on the gravely shore, behind a slate gray piece of stone weathered smooth by high tide. "Thankfully the causeway to the outer palisade is only next to the front gate and we left out the south western end, otherwise we'd be in trouble." The swordsman nodded distractedly. The moon was ever lower now. It'd be twilight soon.

Unfortunately luck wasn't on their side. Within a handful of minutes the soldiers were coming from the perimeter and Murtagh was informed by Saphira that she was ready to take flight and scare them, damning secrecy. Just as she reared up, ready to head down the shoreline, despite Solembum's vehement protests, the clip clopping of hooves met them. Eragon and Angela pulled up, the horses rearing. The wagon wheels had been covered by squares of felt that Angela leapt off and began removing as she yelled, "no use for them anymore!"

"Load up and get on," Eragon yelled. As he did they heard soldiers move towards them. Eragon got down and started to chuck everything in with the werecat and herbalist, Murtagh now taking the reins and removing his bow from the back along with arrows. It was as Eragon lifted a bundle of tusks a spearman entered their vision. Murtagh shouted, knocked an arrow, and let fly. The man fell over, pierced through the neck. However more entered his periphery, immediately raising shields.

"Let's **go**!" Angela tossed in what she was carrying and leapt in, as did Eragon. Murtagh heaved and right as he did Snowfire was met in the side with a spear. He neighed and roared, but this merely succeeded in pulling the wagon to the left, turning it, and with that the horses ran, egged on by Murtagh.

"Eragon, get up here, Snowfire's hurt!" He burst through the canvas and looked down at him. Snowfire was galloping at full strength, the spear embedded in his lower flank. Eragon would have expected more blood until Angela piped up from next to him.

"The spear is stemming the blood loss, but he won't be able to keep up this pace for long, less than a quarter of a league probably." As she said this an arrow soared overhead, striking the ground. They both turned and went to the back of the shaking wagon. Five horsemen were after them, two with bows, three with torches and spears. The whooped and hollered.

"Bloody fools, Eragon," before she could say another word Eragon let three arrows fly in succession. The bow from his youth, worn with use, still served him well. The fine arrows Meachum had gifted him with met their marks, but only one was wounded grievously. They both ducked as arrows flew back and the riders urged their steeds to hasten. Angela heaved back her arm and chucked a potion bottle.

In an explosion of navy blue smoke the leading rider cried out and stabbed at his own eyes. He reared his horse away, screaming, for reasons Eragon could not tell. "Take that you flaming bastards," roared Angela. She reared back and chucked a bottle of the same color again, but this time the horsemen steered away.

"Get rid of them and fast," yelled Murtagh from the front. Solembum was in cat form, flattening himself to the floor of the wagon. Eragon loosened five more arrows, none having much effect. As he knocked a sixth Angela grabbed his wrist. He looked at her, annoyed, and then noticed the motion she made. Her hand moved slowly through the air, palm upwards, sweeping out. Suddenly he remembered. Heat, motion, and time. She looked grim.

"Snowfire can't last much longer. It's the only way," she yelled. He didn't have time to argue and merely jerked his head yes. He knocked the arrow again and then crouched. As he did the air around him shimmered, ripples seeming to form the lower he got.

'Saphira, lend me your strength,' and he felt her pour herself into him. 'What is heat but motion,' they recited in unison as the world shifted to black and white. 'What is motion but heat,' they recited again as the world went fuzzy as if filled with constantly moving flakes of black and white. 'What is time but the motion of moving forward,' they recited the last and a surge of energy, white hot, ran through him as he jumped from the edge of the wagon.

"Eragon," screamed Angela, "No I meant…"

Eragon felt nauseous as he moved faster than normal, corkscrewing through the air, and firing off arrows as he went, all hitting home and wounding the soldiers grievously. As he hit the ground exhaustion came over him and he dropped to one knee. He gulped in a deep breath, his whole body shaking. 'Eragon,' Saphira said concerned.

Without warning a memory leapt forth, unwelcome…

 _Eragon stomped out from the mouth of the cave, the harsh night wind greeting him. He stared outward at nothing, breathing harshly. As he stood there he noticed a flicker of movement to his left. He looked down and stepped back in revulsion._

 _A rather large spider was fighting what looked like a large bee, but he soon realized it wasn't a bee but a wasp. The spider reared up, fangs visible, striking forward. It was about the size of his hand, matte black, with a rather bulbous end and thick legs. It chittered as the wasp flew up and away, its massive stinger coming down and embedding itself somewhat into the abdomen. The spider whipped around and tried to strike again, but the wasp clung on, embedding its stinger fully and shuddering…_

Eragon came too and gasped, reaching for the ground, trying to steady himself. Saphira was now fully panicking, rushing towards him, her form visible in the night sky. He whipped his head side to side and then jerked his neck backwards. His mind left him again…

 _Eragon watched in morbid fascination as the spider eventually became still, the wasp crawling over it, checking for something. Eragon reached out with his mind, but was shocked to find the spider's mind still intact; it's life force burning bright. He detected two emotions. The wasp felt pure satisfaction. The spider felt pure fear. He recoiled at the primal force of these two small creatures._

 _The wasp began pulling the spider away, little by little, dragging it to a crack in the stone. Eragon reached out again, wanting to understand. Why had a creature like the wasp been able to conquer a much larger and dangerous foe? Why had it attacked the spider? What did it want it for? Food?_

 _Eragon crept closer and watched, probing with his mind, lightly, so as to not scare off the wasp. As he listened he could detect something else. An instinct…almost…caring in nature, but not entirely. It was an instinct to survive and pass on, to give…nourishment. That's when it became clear to him. He was detecting three life forces…the third was inside the wasp itself, an egg…_

Saphira landed and rushed over, a snarl leaving her, as she tried to pull Eragon's mind into the folds of her own. She whimpered as a resounding crack of lightning echoed across their mental link. 'What treachery is this,' she thought. Eragon breathed in harshly trying to rein in his mind. 'Eragon, think of riddles, think of true names, think of something simple. Regain control. Breathe deep youngling and focus.' Saphira's voice was thick with worry. She made a whine, high pitched, her worry starting to overcome her. Her rider could barely keep his mind together. It seemed to be bursting at the seams…

 _Eragon stood at Brom's grave, the sun slowly peaking over the horizon, a giant flaming eye to inspect him on the new day. He had been there ever since watching the wasp pull the immobilized spider into its nest. He had then detected the depositing of its larva into the spider as if the arachnid was now a living incubator. It was morbid, disgusting, and fascinating._

 _He had then climbed the rocky summit and observed the old man. Now dawn came and he recited to himself what he had said after a few hours of wandering in his mind, "I'm not ready…yet…But I_ _ **will be**_ _. Like the wasp I will adapt to take down greater foes." He then sat down, crossed his legs, and spoke. Saphira had watched silently the whole night and now listened with fascination._

"Saphira," burst out Angela, leaping to them as Eragon now laid still, eyes closed but moving rapidly behind his lids. "We have to get moving. You must take him with you, but we haven't time to put the saddle on." Saphira reached over with her long neck and deftly picked Eragon up as a mother cat does with newborn kittens. She then held out her massive front right foreleg and dropped him into her outstretched claws and took flight.

'Meet me at the channel,' her voice was harsh and full of worry. Angela got back into the wagon as Murtagh finished up the healing spell and threw away the spear that had pierced Snowfire. They stole away into the night.

 _Saphira lay basking in the hot sun on a patch next to Brom's tomb. A stew was preparing for Eragon and Murtagh. Eragon refused still to answer Murtagh's questions. Saphira was thinking of how she wished to converse with someone like herself at this time. Like Solembum, the werecat from Teirm._

' _Like yourself,' Eragon asked her privately. She snorted and rapped him on the head with her snout._

' _Beings unlike you two-legs, beings not so concerned with the silly going ons of this world, beings concerned with greater things.' He inquired more, but she merely made a rumbling noise in her chest, a laugh of sorts._

" _So, you plan on telling me what you decided. Vouch for your plans and all?" Murtagh was annoyingly angry, still._

' _I vouch for him, O Fearful One, now stop your fretting,' and with that she curled up and returned to her rest._

* * *

By the time they got off the peninsula, up the shore, and parked at the channel twilight had come. Snowfire was nearly done for and Murtagh, already tired from the strenuous activity and magic use, was gulping down water and bread. Angela had a pinched expression as she and Solembum unloaded supplies into blankets that could be wrapped into bundles. Saphira sat on her hind legs, Eragon propped up. Her eyes were closed as she tried to take him into her mind.

A raging sea of emotion and scraps of memories ripped through Eragon and Saphira rumbled. 'Come now partner of my mind and heart, please awake.' Saphira was growing despondent, especially now that they had the Empire on their trail. She smelled Angela approaching and turned to her, ready to growl, and warn her away, but she sensed the herbalist's mind was full of worry for her rider, but also worried for their safety.

"Saphira," she said quietly. "Please we must leave. Solembum will fly with you and Eragon as well as the first bundles of supplies. He can watch over him. Please," she begged now. Saphira stared at her. She let her mind brush Angela.

'I told you, when you first agreed to teach him such dangerous manipulations, to never let him do it when he was weak of body and spirit.' Angela hung her head and then looked back determined.

"I promise Bjartskular that I never intended to break it, but Eragon responded when I had intended to. It was the heat of battle and sometimes things are forgotten." Saphira growled.

'No excuse.' She motioned to Solembum. He came forward with the saddle. 'Quickly.' She was in no mood. Immediately they went about strapping it on her, Eragon going in next, and Murtagh came forward with the bundles. She grasped them in her mighty claws and took off without warning.

"Well," said Murtagh as they watched her cross the black waters of the channel, the Spine rising on either side of the water, "take it this way. Your death will be quick." Angela was in no mood to quip back or strike him in annoyance.

She stalked away, full of sorrow and regret at not having been quicker. Murtagh stomped up to her and they went about bundling the next group of items working in terse silence. They had parked the wagon behind a bluff, using it for natural covering.

"We could scry the land, we've been here before, and check for soldiers." Angela shook her head no.

"They will have reported the magic. They are bound to have a magician or two now. Too risky. On top of that we'll have plenty of Galbatorix's black agents on our heels soon enough. You used magic and Eragon…"

Murtagh's scowl deepened. "I had to use magic and at least I know how," he ground out. Angela spun and looked at him.

"I know that! And watch your attitude you sharp little guttersnipe. I have kept your secret and trained that boy with you. He has become more than any of us could hope under the circumstances, but I see now the curse of this endeavor."

* * *

Saphira flew, her wings flapping laboriously, as she hauled the cargo the two-legs would need to survive. 'Eragon too,' she thought with effort. He was lying, slack, against her neck and Solembum clutched to him. His tufted ears were alert and his maned head twisted back and forth.

She projected emotions and images to Solembum who projected back. They were clear, for now. The channel was only about half a league wide, but the weight slowed Saphira considerably. On top of that she still had to choose safe harbor. She turned her head to the east and saw the faint light beginning to appear. Determination set in her belly. 'We cannot still be flying for by then the humans will have good enough light to travel swiftly by.'

She began flapping her wings harder, more determined than ever to get across the water. As she grew closer to the other side she scanned the horizon. As she did so she felt a presence touch her mind and recognized the hardened steel of Murtagh's mind. He had difficulty maintaining contact, the distance and stress of their morning weighing heavily on him. 'Saphira…Angela says…an outcrop she saw on the last scouting trip…Northwestern ledge…a plateau…second peak in.' He then cut off contact as a single image appeared in her mind courtesy of Solembum. She turned, flying higher as a favorable sea wind lifted her. She started slightly as Eragon shifted in the saddle, but then fell back to being still. She pushed onwards.

"What happened to him," asked Murtagh in a hoarse whisper. Angela continued to feel the leaves of the brush plant beside her. She wasn't sure how to explain it. "I want to know."

She looked up slowly. "I can explain it as this," she said haltingly. "There are certain rules the world lives by and magic manipulates these rules. It takes energy to use it to perform feats unknown to mortals. That said there are…indirect? Indirect ways of manipulating forces around us. The ultimate action of this is manipulating the fabric of time and space. Thereby using forces to break the rules and restructure them to a way that benefits yourself and harms your enemies. What he did is something even I have trouble doing."

"You didn't answer my question."

"It's all I have to give." With that she fell silent. Three large bundles sat behind them, the two horses grazing in their saddles, and the wagon, empty, waiting to be lifted. Saphira was nowhere to be seen.

"Angela," she turned and raised an eyebrow at Murtagh. "Thank you…for not telling him or Saphira…about my parentage." She smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"No point in it is there. He doesn't need to know as of now. However at some point he'll have to know. You are wielding your father's blade after all. Also despite everything I can't seem to get you to learn to behave." He glared at the ground, conflicted.

A few moments later Angela grabbed his arm. "She returns," and leapt to her feet. She landed hard, but didn't seem worse for wear.

'The large meals and rest have been made useful. It is my worry that annoys me. No Daughter of the Wind should be weakened by foolhardy concerns,' and Saphira stamped. She came forward and watched as Angela reached for a large bundle with Murtagh. Saphira stopped them with a growl and shake of her head.

'Put the horses into sleep Murtagh, then I shall fly them, Angela, and a bundle.' They gaped at her.

'Saphira it is too much weight for one so young as,' Murtagh was cut short by a deeper rumble and talons tapping on earth.

'Long ago yes, but not now. I am determined to see this through. If it'll calm you give me the lightest bundle and I'll take one horse. Now be quick!' They set about arranging everything as so. They took Tornac first for Snowfire still needed more healing and if they couldn't escape in time they'd need the stronger of the two. As Saphira hauled off Angela reached into the folds of her robes and tossed down two vials.

'Use if you need a distraction,' and with that they were off. Murtagh quickly tore back and gathered Snowfire next to the wagon and the last two bundles. Next round she'd take the horse and a bundle before coming back for him and the last of their things before taking the wagon. As he waited with baited breath he heard a sound that sent his heart racing. The pealing of a horn rang off in the distance. I was the same kind of horn that had been rung to alert the guards of his and Solembum.

* * *

Saphira laboriously swept across the bay. It had taken her only minutes to fly back, but with the extra weight she had to take her time. Angela shifted and looked down as they finally passed over pines and climbed a tad higher before alighting on an outcropping of ice and snow covered stone. She bound off of Saphira, checking to make sure Tornac was safely asleep, before taking the bundles and ushering the dragon to fly. She did, rising on an updraft.

She sped back, the sky now giving way too much light for comfort and the rays of the sun peeking over the horizon. She urged herself faster, thinking of the pain Eragon was in, and how she hated to be away from him. 'Always trouble he finds, whether in his own mind or in the world.'

As she came upon the beach she peered down from the skies and saw a concerning sight. Dozens and dozens of two-legs on horses milled about shouting orders as bloodhounds sniffed the ground and men, bows and spears with them, fanned about. They were a quarter of a league from Murtagh and closing in. The bluff was the only thing protecting him. She spun, corkscrewing to the side, making sure to hide in cloud cover as she dipped lower.

Opening her maw and using her tongue to direct it, Saphira breathe a small flame as she dipped just above the water. Immediately a huge cloud of steam gathered. She alighted on shore and saw Murtagh running about, the bundles open and the wagon straps in a pile of goods on one blanket.

'What is this,' she demanded. He turned to her.

"We can't cart all of this crap with us." He spoke out loud in fear of using his mind in case of magicians. "We need to leave some behind. Any survival supplies like food and the likes are with the straps there. Everything else is here." He motioned to a pile of fur and ivory as well as other goods like extra lengths of rope, tools for repairing the wagon, nails, et cetera. Saphira hated the idea, but nodded. "Besides these goods were primarily to trade for coin." He finished sorting and tied up the bundles. "You'll need to alight both the wagon and bundle when we take off."

Saphira began flapping and gingerly picked up Snowfire and the bundle they were taking. Murtagh shifted, an arrow knocked in his bow as he scanned the horizon. They lifted off. He threw the two vials of Angela's and watched as an acid green cloud appeared, billowing up the bluff. He was shocked when Saphira breathed a huge torrent of fire at the water beneath them.

As steam billowed upwards Saphira immediately reached downwards for the second bundle, Murtagh yelling in shock, and much to his surprise she heaved in huge strokes and began drifting towards the water, only about 10 feet above it. She whipped her head back, her tongue curling around inside her mouth and launched a fireball, a meter in diameter, and the wagon exploded into flames.

She whipped back and launched more as they flew, slowly, across the sea tongue. Steam billowed around them. Shocked cries soon reached their airs and howls of agony. It seems Angela's acid cloud and the surprising amount of steam had taken them by surprise. They flew on, Saphira's muscles straining. At several points Snowfire's hooves dipped into the water.

'Murtagh…help my limbs.' He immediately reached out and used his mind to detect areas of extreme lactic acid buildup. He detected the relief as Saphira's shuddering wing muscles released the tension with the help of his spell. 'Thank…you…'

It took Saphira almost a whole hour to cross the channel and by the time they alighted on the rocky shore the sun had begun to climb in the sky. Luckily Murtagh could see cloud cover moving in. Saphira lowered Snowfire and the bundles before landing hard. Her body was shaking. Murtagh patted her muscular neck. "We made it," he whispered.

* * *

 **Next Chapter - The Empire now knows there are four people in flight from Tordsed, but they thankfully don't know of Saphira except for suspicious steam rising from the ocean. Four men are dead and not by normal means. Eragon has committed an act that has rendered him unconscious and yet Saphira is unaffected, but unable to contact her rider. What does fate have in store for them? Also...how will Angela react to the wagon being blown up!?**

 **End Notes: None this time**


	5. The Waystation and The Watcher

**As Joan Rivers said, "Hello...Hello...Hello, Hello Hello." I hope everyone is doing well and I'm absolutely thrilled by the reviews, the views, and just the overall traffic. I'm new to writing fanficiton and the response is just great. If you are willing to please share the story with other's in the fanfiction community. My everyday life is filled with work, work, work, and social event, social event, social event (which means my intake of coffee and martinis is nice and high). Being able to come home and just write for pleasure and not issue policy briefs or have to debate legal principles over text is a great thing.**

 **Now for responses!**

 **catherine10 - your excellent suggesiton will be incorporated every chapter from Chapter 6 onwards so when the words are bolded and italicized with single quotes (') it is mindspeak. Excellent suggestion.**

 **Naerys Targaryen - think physics! What happens when you decide to fuck with them? Also think of the most amazing recent announcement about gravity waves *heart eyes*! There will be characters, soon, and later who will be able to help Eragon understand. Angela can't really help in that department because of who she is which will be revealed...later, but sooner than you think. Politics will start soon, chap 7-10**

 **adriancatalin6 - Thank you! You'll have to keep reading to find out. Chapter 11 is my personal plan for revealing what's going on with that, but we shall see. Definitely early teen chapters**

 **White Okami - Arya is intriguing for me. I wanted to make her stronger in some ways, but cut her off from some of her book traits. As I said in past review responses think of the effects of** **abandonment.**

* * *

Angela dabbed at Eragon's forehead, the rag soaked in ice water and herb oil. He was still deep asleep. Saphira lay close to him, his head propped up on blankets against her side. Murtagh was moving around them sorting goods and supplies. Solembum was off scouting the area.

"Why save all of these things and risk exposure," Murtagh had demanded of Saphira. She looked at him with a critical eye and offered a response that made it sound as if it was completely sensible.

'I noticed the box Eragon had received from the shopkeeper in the leave-behind pile. It has a tea he said is medicinal. I know not it's properties, but will not abandon anything that has a potential chance of helping him.' She then flashed her teeth, curled around Eragon, and continued her attempts at helping calm his raging dreams. They had been like this for the past few hours.

The sun had disappeared behind heavy clouds of gray and white. "Snowfall is imminent," Solembum had stated in human form before shifting and padding off.

As Murtagh checked on their midday meal he went over their list out loud.

"The useless items are mainly the hides, fur, ivory, bone, some odds and ends. I'm not sure how we plan on carting all of this. The wagon is gone." Angela nodded grimly.

"Normally I'd be rather peeved about that, for it took me months to build properly and I don't like carting everything everywhere since it's a bastard on the back, but it's all for the best I suppose." She accepted the food and chowed away as she inspected her patient. "I think we can find use for the trade supplies. I know we had meant to use it to gain coin for our travels, but we may need it now for ourselves."

"How so," Murtagh asked. Angela motioned around them. He looked and it slowly dawned on him. "Ah, I see." They were now on an outcropping, a trail of mountain pine and brush leading higher into the mountains their only way out. "No caves to hide in, no wagon to transport, and a very sick Rider."

"Exactly, you're not devoid of intelligence after all. If he doesn't get better soon we'll have to make a liter and carry him." She motioned to the horn and fur bundles.

"What about the catamaran?" She shook her head.

"I'd rather not. We may need it as we go further down towards Ceunon. We can't risk dismantling it, but I will agree if we must." Angela continued to look about.

'There must be something up here…hemlock will just kill him, so that's no fun…stonescrub, useless…mountain flowers, how are they not dead yet…mor…wait a second.' She suddenly got up and walked briskly towards the mountain flowers. Murtagh called after her as she left the outcropping and passed through the sparse grass and snow. She knelt at the side of the stone wall and inspected the mountain flowers. The stalks were only slightly yellow with death, and would soon die, but still their russet colored flowers suffused the air with scent. She looked down and felt the earth. The soil was pregnant with water, but still alive. The roots were slightly rotted, but there was something else.

"Murtagh," she called out, motioning him forward. He came. "I believe I've found something rather fascinating. Feel the soil." He looked at her with a flat expression, but did as he was told. "Not with your glove on," she admonished. He huffed and took it off, the chill air striking his hand. As he touched the soil he waited for something to happen.

After a moment he turned to her, "well this is rather anti-climactic."

"You are incredibly insufferable. Look, blockhead, with your mind. If you can. Really now." She rolled her eyes and motioned impatiently. He rolled his own eyes in response and felt with his mind down into the earth. He pulled back in shock and looked at the herbalist who possessed a smug expression.

He just stared at her before jumping up. "We best get a move on." He ran back to their camp, Angela on his heels.

Saphira counted in her head, promising she would leap up at the end and demand an explanation for their bustling about. Before she could she heard them stop and their joint minds contacted her. 'What?'

They paused, her tone brooking no room for dilly-dallying, and Angela quickly expressed images to her. Saphira's left eye opened, looking at them both with her great sapphire orb, and asked, 'where is an opening?'

"Don't know, but I'm going to inspect and find out. I'll need Solembum's help. Next to you he's the smallest," Murtagh said side eyeing Angela.

"I'm fun sized," quipped Angela as she called for Solembum. She then went about gathering things up. Solembum soon appeared over a ridge and bound down the rock face with expert dexterity. Murtagh relayed the discovery and the werecat wasted no time in flitting to the mountain flowers with Murtagh.

'Even if you find the entrance there is no assurance this cavern will be big enough.' Angela nodded distractedly.

'Yes, but if we can find a place to stick for a while we will have shelter from the snow and a place to help Eragon with whatever ails him.' A sharp yowl pierced the stillness of the mountain air.

"Solembum," yelled out Angela whipping around. Neither he nor Murtagh were anywhere to be found. She rushed forward to the mountain face, but a sharp splitting sound met their ears. Saphira yelped in pain and covered her head with her massive paws. Angela got low to the ground, ready to reach for magic, as difficult as it was for her, and protect them. Then much to their shock they watched the mountain face cave outward, the stones tumbling away. As the stones fell, they formed a perfect low stone wall, fitting together like puzzle pieces, on either side of the opening. Soon a trapezoidal opening met them, a low stone wall on either side with what seemed like two pillars at either end.

Angela suddenly whipped out a sword that Saphira had never seen before. It was a clear blade that reflected the light. Angela also withdrew a bloody orange colored dagger, the color of a sunset on a hot summer's day, and narrowed her eyes. Suddenly, so suddenly Saphira leapt up, ready to bathe her enemies in flame, Murtagh appeared mouth agape.

"You'll want to see this," he yelled out.

* * *

Angela was blank faced as she looked down at the caved in earth, light coming through the decent sized hole. The mountain flowers had sat on water logged earth that, when Solembum dug at it like a dog, had given way and he and Murtagh had suddenly sunk in. They explained that as they came to they were shocked to find themselves in a small cavern, a steep ledge in front of them, but a small well-worn set of stairs leading up to a grate on their right.

The grate was made of some sort of material that sounded like ceramic when struck. Murtagh and Solembum had forced it open, entering into the building they now found themselves. Solembum had then yowled, to see if the others could hear them, but the yowl had caused runes unlike anything they knew of to come to light and create the opening they had passed through. Murtagh had lifted Eragon through the entrance, the rider unnaturally still with his eyes darting behind his lids.

"This place…is old," said Solembum as he moved more of their things inside. The ceiling was easily thirty to forty feet high, domed, and smooth. It was colored dark green, the ridging slate gray. The room below was circular, with a crescent moon shaped balcony and a staircase leading up the right side. A door, rotted with age, sat there unopened. Bellow the balcony sat a dais with a stone counter and two other unopened doors. The rest of the room was dominated by stone tables and other assorted furniture. All of it was covered in dust and cobwebs.

Angela pulled back from the opening and shut the ceramic door. She turned and sheathed her translucent blade. Murtagh looked at her. "Yes," she asked her head jutting forward.

"What is," he was cut off by her holding out a hand.

"Not today," and set about getting a camp up and running. Murtagh didn't want to drop it, but a wind tore through the opening. He cursed. Snow was beginning to fall. He ran about and brought Snowfire and Tornac in. He set Snowfire down on an unrolled bundle of furs, bears and wolf primarily. He then laid his hands on the horses flank and set about finishing the job of healing the horse. He hoped he hadn't waited too long to finish.

Saphira was able to curl up in front of the dais, knocking furniture out of the way with no care. She was impatient and her scales itched at the unfamiliar place. Most of all Eragon's state worried her. Angela came up to check on Eragon. Her movements were quick and jerky.

'What bothers you,' Angela looked up and shook her head no. Saphira's eyes narrowed. She disliked being denied, but she knew Angela would not speak unless she had to. 'For now, herbalist, I will keep my peace. But soon you will answer,' she said to herself. Murtagh finished up, steadying himself, and rose. His limbs ached with fatigue but he set about assisting Angela. Soon a crackling fire was set in a wide pit in the center of the room. Sleeping mats of stuffed hide were rolled out with pillows of down and thick fur covers to keep them warm.

Solembum had tried to close the entrance by yowling, but it remained open. Finally Murtagh had drawn on the strength of Saphira and constructed a ward to keep out the chill, but the snow would still accumulate at the door. Angela went about brewing a quick potion. "Emberflow," she muttered, "keeps ice from forming." She poured it along the ward line.

They now ate, stewing in silence. As they finished and washed their bowls in snow Saphira appeared behind them. They turned and looked up at the mighty dragon. 'Where is the box Murtagh?' He gave her a questioning look. Smoke puffed from her nostrils as she snorted. 'The box, human, of the tea.'

"Oh," he started and then went and dug it out.

"What tea is this," asked Angela curiously. Saphira followed them.

'Eragon received it from Meachum. It is called Nightfoil.' Angela cried out in triumph at that and immediately seized the box, running to the brass kettle set over the flame.

'What are you doing,' growled out Saphira. Angela smiled wildly.

"Really Saphira you and the youngling should've told me right away that you possessed Nightfoil. I can't believe you didn't think to tell me sooner," she harrumphed as she sprinkled the leaves into a ceramic owl mug. Saphira and Murtagh watched as the leaves instantly dissolved, giving way to purple lines of color and turning the water a milky lavender color. Even Solembum, lounging on a table, perked up and watched with interest. As Angela went to Eragon, Saphira's massive tail came down, causing the earth to shudder.

Angela looked up in shock. 'First you let him perform an act that exacerbates his state, then you reveal a weapon unlike any we have seen, and you seem uncertain about this place as if you know of it! Speak **now** herbalist!' Angela's face was stony and even Murtagh seemed to have fear.

Before anything could be said Solembum jumped down and looked up at the angered dragon. 'Saphira,' his voice was calm, 'I ask that you let me speak.' Her eyes flicked down at the werecat, but she projected a reluctant allowance.

'For three years Angela and I have lived with you, willingly, and taught Eragon and you as much as we can. We have flown with you and taught you the patterns of the wind, how to live off the land, even alter the flow of the world when your need is great. We have laughed and cried with you. We have loved and mourned with you. After all this do you really think we would bring harm to Eragon or yourself?'

The werecat stared at her unblinking. Her annoyance and mistrust rolled off her in waves, but so did a growing begrudging acknowledgement that Solembum wasn't wrong though her trust in them was lessened.

'Angela still has secrets. Some even I do not know. However if she promises to answer three questions, will you let her give him the tea? I can promise it will help. Nightfoil is known to werecats. It is an old herb.' Saphira's maw opened slightly, flames flickering within. Murtagh stepped back, his hand reaching for Zar'roc on his back and his left hand reaching for the sword at his side. He wasn't as skilled as Eragon in dual wielding, but he was good enough.

'I do not bargain with Eragon's life,' Saphira hissed out. 'However I want answers so you will answer three Angela.' The herbalist blanched at this. Solembum's ears flicked.

'As long as I am allowed to vouch when it is a question she cannot or will not answer.' Saphira now roared low at this, her fangs showing, but Solembum was undeterred. He stared straight at her.

After a pregnant pause Saphira slowly moved her tail away and stood beside Eragon. Solembum turned and motioned Angela forward with him. A chastened look was upon her face, but she walk forward determined, propped Eragon's head up, and poured the still warm tea down his throat.

Saphira snapped, 'what now?' Angela sat on the edge of a table, Murtagh joining her, but standing apart, and she sighed.

"Now we wait."

* * *

 _It was cold. It was dark. Eragon was alone. He sat, hunched, his head on his knees, his arms crossed, and he curled in on himself. Doubt was what he felt. He felt doubt and fear and most of all he felt was disappointment. He was disappointed in himself. "How did it come to this," he whispered._

 _As the memories kept striking out at him his mind caved in on itself, drawing him into a shell locked away from his body. Here now in the blackness of the deepest reaches of his mind he sat alone. 'I wish I was home, I wish I was in Carvahall. I wish I had killed the deer and taken it home so I had never found that damn egg.'_

 _As quick as an autumn wind the blackness shifted. Eragon looked up as he suddenly smelled the tidings of the harvest season. He felt grass, dry, beneath him and looked up. He stood on a hill overlooking his old home in Carvahall. The whitewashed walls and graying wooden roof of their home greeted him. Barley and wheat was in abundance, dancing lightly in the breeze, as the trees shined scarlet, gold, and russet. He felt a smile spread on his face. Squash, pumpkins, and other assorted vegetables sat in the next field over._

 _He then noticed something different. The barn was newly painted, with two additions. There was a shed next to the house, firewood peeking out from underneath a cover. He then noticed a man, tall and strong, his arms corded with muscle, directing a horse pulling a plow. Eragon peered closer and was shocked to behold Roran, his cousin, but older._

 _'Is this a vision of the present,' he asked himself in bewilderment. He found himself darting down to get closer. He suddenly stopped, worried he'd be seen, but as he stopped he noticed his arm passing through the trunk of an oak. He jerked back, in fright, yelling out. He stood still suddenly, afraid that Roran had heard him._

 _'Wait a second…I'm incorporeal!' He put his arm through the tree, moving it back and forth, starting to laugh. Suddenly he remembered Saphira's voice when he did such childish things._

 _'Are you a Rider or a village idiot? Pick one and stick to it.' He stopped and turned back and walked forth. As he approached the barley he stepped through it, realizing that it only seemed things that could completely block access were he able to slip through. He smiled softly at being able to feel the fields of his home, however altered it may be._

 _As he approached Roran he stiffened slightly. Seeing him up close was disconcerting for him for he had not laid eyes on his cousin in three years. He now had a beard, thick, but trimmed neatfly. He was well built and clearly well fed. His skin was tanned from working in the sun, unlike Eragon's pale visage from living so far north. His clothes, though dirty, seemed to be of a fine make._

 _"Husband," chimed out a clear voice. Eragon spun and gasped. Katrina, hair a brilliant shade of copper, seemed to glide forth. A dress of navy blue, lined with gold needle work, framed her well-shaped body. Her hair was pinned in an elegant twist, held together with a pearl and gold comb set with a single sapphire in the shape of a…dragon! Eragon watched as she smiled sweetly at Roran, smiling as she kissed him._

 _"Roran, you must finish. It will be time for the Harvest Festival soon. We can't be late now can we?" He laughed._

 _"No," his voice was deep, "we cannot. Have you chosen what I will be wearing?" Katrina laughed._

 _"Your armor is appropriate. It's freshly reforged from the Siege of Petrovya. The gold stitch of the flame has been redesigned to appear as if Saphira herself is roaring it." Roran smiled at that. His face slowly dropped though._

 _"What is wrong, love," Katrina asked concerned. He sighed and looked to the horizon. She softened as she watched him._

 _"You miss him," and he nodded._

 _"He should be here. Instead the King sends him to finish the taking of Dauth. I wish those blasted Surdan's weren't so obstinate. Galbatorix can't be beat. It's time to accept it and make the best of it, like we have here in Carvahall."_

 _Eragon blanched at this. Galbatorix? Ordering him? Conquering Surda? What was this!? Katrina and Roran spoke a bit more, but Eragon heard none as the world lost color, a frigid wind whipped through him, and the skies darkened with angry black clouds._

 _Saphira and I would never…as he thought this a sudden earth shattering roar filled the world. In a blur of black and white it spun around and Eragon fell through the earth with a terrorized scream. He came to, hunched inward, but a large tremor ran through him._

 _'Eragon,' roared a familiar voice. He looked up so fast he practically got whiplash. Saphira looked at him straight in the face with an expression of utter worry and sorrow._

 _He lunged forward, pressing his head against her snout. She closed her eyes and nuzzled him. 'Little One…'_

 _'I was so scared Saphira.' He relayed to her the occurrences since being pulled into his dark dreams. She listened and waited, projecting comfort and her own concern. 'What goes on now?'_

 _Saphira didn't state anything for a while before chiming, 'it matters not. What matters is here and now. Listen to me Eragon for I have much to say.' He took a deep breath before nodding._

 _'I do not know why your mind plays such tricks on you. I do not know why I could not reach you here, but I could hear you faintly speak my name and I dug towards it each time.' Eragon stayed silent, listening closely._

 _'I believe that you are living, and I living through you, the consequences of our actions. By leaving we remained hidden, allowing the world to pass us by. Much suffering is guaranteed to have happened, but we have remained away from it. We allowed our wishes to grow to supplant our duties as Rider and Dragon. Now you fear that we must leave the detour path and return to the road ahead. It is a road that will lead to Galbatorix and the final confrontation. We aren't ready for it, but much better suited.'_

 _Eragon felt his cheeks warm. Saphira was always so clear in her assessments. He was embarrassed at his own ineptitude. 'Not ineptitude, Eragon, but merely being human. You're not a dragon,' she said amusedly though he felt her feel truth in some regard to dragons being superior to all. 'You are imagining what the truth may have been, the worst of it, us serving the King. You are also imagining, on some level, a desirable future. Carvahall and your family prospering, us holding positions of clear importance, as we should always, and most of all we are alive.' Eragon nodded. She was right and he did imagine sometimes what could have been._

 _'Could have been, but no more. It should **never** be anyways.' At Saphira's words his whole being seemed to shake with various emotions. Before he could say anything he felt Saphira's mind tug at his. 'Awake Eragon! We have much to talk and think of, but not enough time. **Awake**!'_

* * *

Eragon was ravenous. Angela and Murtagh watched in gross amusement as he wolfed down enough food to make them worried that he may cut into their supplies. "Need to replace the energy I lost," he whispered in a hoarse voice. Soon enough he leaned back against Saphira, belly full, and content to revel in a new found closeness he felt with her. She hummed.

Solembum jumped down off the table and interrupted their reverie. He stopped in front of the, tail twitching back and forth. Eragon opened one eye and looked at him. "Yes, Solembum," he asked tiredly.

'Saphira, your questions.' Eragon looked up at her in question. She shared her memories with him of what had occurred while asleep. Eragon found himself more alert than ever.

'What do you think we should ask,' he directed at Saphira. She tensed up and her tail twitched as she pondered.

'First we must know our surroundings lest we come across prey that ends up being a predator.' Eragon thought briefly and agreed. They had been used to being hunted and then become used to being hunters. Now they needed to reacquaint themselves with the former feeling.

"Angela," asked Eragon since Saphira made it clear she seemed to know more, "what is this place?" The herbalist looked up from inspect the tables for reasons he couldn't tell. Her face was unreadable.

"It's a waystation, of course." Eragon immediately moved to pipe up and tell her that it wasn't an answer. "Hold, Eragon, for I am not being witty or cagey." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "This is a waystation, an inn like Claw Hearth, but from before even elves arrived in Alagaesia. The door over there leads to an area of the Depth Reaches that was once well traveled…and well populated."

"You are indeed old," said Murtagh, looking at her with a feeling Eragon couldn't place. Before anyone else could say anything Saphira projected to the room a question to Solembum.

'Why did your yowl open the doorway to this place,' and at that the werecat affected a shrug.

'I know not. It was as a surprise to me as it was to you.' He then turned to look at Angela.

"The weres...cats were friends of the beings that built this place. In fact they could even be called members of their civilization, but then again the same could be said of werecats and any civilized society." Eragon and Murtagh were both in shock to some degree that neither mentioned her switch earlier. Angela was being forthcoming without wisecracks or jokes or being obstinate.

'I'm not sure what to ask next especially if she's so forthcoming.' Saphira agreed. She had and idea suddenly and conferred with Eragon who agreed the wording was the best to obtain a possible answer.

'If you are not a member of any current society, were you a member of theirs?' Angela brayed with laughter at that.

"No, no, no," she giggled, tears at her eyes, "no I am fortunate to not have been one of them. For they are long gone, far more gone than any beings have been. They were old, older than the beings we call the Grey Folk."

Eragon and Saphira were shocked at that. 'Imagine that, beings older than the very forgers of the rules of magic itself.' Eragon nodded with a lock on his face appropriate as if clubbed.

"Angela," said Murtagh with a firmness that made all turn and look at him. "What or who were these people." She looked at him, expression sober again, and sighed.

"Oh Murtagh. I wish I could elaborate on them, but it is impossible to even begin to explain the many answers to that question." As Murtagh stood, ready to argue, she held up a hand. "Peace, for I am not done and will tell you this." She reached into her robes, causing Murtagh to put a hand on his sword and Eragon to reach for magic, but she merely removed a scroll. As she unrolled it Eragon realized it was vellum. The ends were fastened to what looked like black lacquered wood. "This scrolls details the Depth Reaches, in a language even I have trouble remembering how to read, for it was some time ago. What I can say is this. They were beings of unrivaled power. Long ago a great cataclysm caused their civilization to be wiped out. Beyond that any knowledge I have is so piecemeal or secret that it cannot be explained. There are few others who know more than I and what I know it little enough."

She tossed the scroll to Murtagh who looked at it and then tossed it to Eragon. It was a stylized pictorial of a long winding road underneath mountains. Small squares in red wax that seemed freshly dried clearly notated locations.

'Cul'gatan.' Eragon looked up, expecting to see that Angela had spoken. Instead it was Solembum, his eyes glazed over.

"What," asked Eragon outloud, his head turning slightly, eyes narrowed.

'The wax denotes Cul'gatan.' The werecat leaned forward, his mouth opened slightly, before he suddenly shook out his main and looked up and around. 'What,' he said with annoyance as he saw everyone, even Angela, look at him in surprise.

"What is a Cul'gatan Solembum," she asked. He merely looked at her and licked a paw. She looked irritated and snorted. "He says he has no idea. We can chalk it up to the werecats being close with the builders of this place, but even I don't know what a Cul'gatan is." Eragon groaned and his head landed back against Saphira's side.

'Answers breed only more questions.' Saphira was emanating calm, but Eragon could feel her annoyance too.

"That was one question, and I've revealed more than a few questions worth, so ask your second one." Saphira immediately shifted her gaze and projected forth.

'Why did you come with us?' At this Angela smiled sadly and looked at them with her piercing eyes, as if she saw right through them.

"It is true I followed Solembum, and he wished to follow you, because we have been companions for a while now. However it was also part of my genuine curiosity at what might occur around you. When Brom died…" She trailed off and looked away, lines of weariness appearing on her face. She turned back to them after some time. "The world shifts around you, Eragon, and you too, Saphira, in ways you cannot understand until you are my…very, very advanced age. These shifts matter and come once in a few lifetimes. I love interesting events, but more than that I feel your shift is more than just any old change in the course of history. It's something more. You are both something more." She smiled, fully, and full of kindness.

Eragon and Saphira were both heartened at her admission, but Eragon looked at Saphira and she at him, as he said, "I'm touched she has this kind of faith in us, but I'm worried about what she means.' Saphira hummed.

'I agree, but for once I do not wish to pry. I worry if we do she won't answer. If she does, though, I fear we will be even more confused and worried than we are now.'

The camp was dead silent as they all digested this news. After some time Solembum stirred and shifted to his human form. After dressing he turned to them, "ask your last question. We have much to still do and night is closing rapidly upon us." Eragon and Saphira stirred uneasily.

'Angela is still mysterious and I still don't entirely trust her as much as I have come to. That said we'd be remiss to treat her badly for holding secrets. We hold our own.' Eragon nodded distractedly.

'Yes, but I still want to know more. What could we ask tha…wait didn't you say she had an odd blade.' Saphira crowed inside his mind.

"Angela, these questions, there are two, involve your blade so I ask they be treated as one. What is that blade and was it made the beings who built this place and that are mentioned on the scroll?" Angela laughed again, merrily, and drew out the blade.

"This blade is the perfect rendition of an incline plane." The light of the fire reflected off the blade, sending a rainbow array around the waystation. "It is named Albitr, which I am sure you know in the ancient language, but I like to call it Tinkledeath!" She smiled toothily.

"Tinkledeath," blurted out Murtagh. Angela laughed again.

"Yes, Tinkledeath, because," and with that she tapped the flat of the blade with her knuckle and a chiming sound rang out. Saphira laughed and Solembum smiled wryly. Angela stopped laughing and sheathed it with a smile.

"Yes, Tinkledeath, and as for its make…" She shrugged, "I received it from a man of no little power and he never explained its origin. Considering it's named in the ancient language it must be younger than this place, but who knows." She sighed, placing the sheathed sword on the table and drew out a bone pipe, stuffed it with cardus weed from a tinderbox, and lit it with a mumbled word. "Well now you know more about me than before. Congratulations." She tipped the pipe at them and puffed on it.

Murtagh stripped down to his undergarments and donned thick sleeping pants. He made sure both Zar'roc and his hand and a half sword with him as he slipped into his bag. Solembum got into the one next to Angela's as she said, "we must rest. I'll take first watch. Eragon, try and wake up after you fall asleep this time." He smiled slightly and melded his mind with Saphira.

'Well,' he asked.

'Rest now, for we are weary and have learned much, but tomorrow we must make decisions. Also please do wake after you fall asleep little one. I'd be rather upset if you didn't.' He smiled at that, closing his eyes knowing that Saphira watched over him.

* * *

The morning came and brought the light of snow clouds pregnant and gray. The companions were well rested and ate breakfast with some banter and spaces of companionable silence. Saphira had cleared the snow with a clean swipe and stood like an azure sentinel ready to guard against any foe.

Eragon stood after eating and washed himself with a rag and snow water mixed with pine oil. 'You need to get used to being dirty,' observed Saphira amusedly.

'Versus you who cannot stand to look anything other than pristine.' She growled at him. She never liked being forced to observe her own vanity. He smirked. After drying he observed his reflection in the water. His body had become hard with muscle, but he was unnaturally pale having received very little light so far north to make a difference. His eyes had changed from their normal brown over time to a stormy gold, Angela explaining the effects of being a Rider weren't fully understood to those who weren't.

"Unfortunately without a proper teacher you will never know all that happens to you," she had told him with a degree of sorrow. He fingered the tapered ears, finding them somewhat odd even till this day.

He had strong cheekbones and a nose that Marvum had called, "just perfect for poking at to see you scrunch it up." He had turned three shades of red at that as Angela chuckled at his embarrassment. His thick brown hair had taken on an almost steely glow to it due to lack of light. In the dark it looked to be almost the color of pitch.

"Enough gazing at yourself. Be glad you don't have zits like a pockmarked adolescent or whiskers like a ferret, ferocious things they are. Oh and get over here. Time for a family meeting." Angela seemed to have regained her usual attitude. Eragon pulled on his undergarments, hide hunting trousers, linen shirt, padded leather jerkin, and greaved boots. He strapped the pauldrons and vambraces on, slapping on his greaved gauntlets, and pulled on his coat. He was ready for the long journey ahead.

"Perfect, you're ready to climb the walls of all the houses in Teirm like a sneak thief. Absolutely spiffing." Angela, in contrast to the browns of Murtagh and blacks of Eragon, wore a red waist coat of canvas covered in thick dyed wool. Billowing black pants and high heeled buckled boots covered her legs. What was ridiculous was the silver chain bandolier across her chest fitted with various flasks and pouches. A dizzying array of colors danced across her chest. Tinkledeath and her poniard were belted at her right side. Her hair was pinned under a white shawl.

"You look the part of fortune teller…or roadside attraction." Angela smiled brightly.

"That's the kindest thing you've said to me you steel swinging princess." She sat down primly on a stone bench. Murtagh scowled. Eragon chuckled and joined them, his bow and quiver slung across his back. She looked at them both, Solembum coming to curl up in her lap. Saphira lay at the door, observing through Eragon.

"We have a problem," started Murtagh, "for we have no wagon anymore and an overabundance of supplies. We can easily have Saphira bring us down the mountain and continue on the shoreline by foot or catamaran. We also have the horses." He waved outside where Tornac and Snowfire were chewing on the sparse grass. "Angela, you know the next part better than I."

She nodded. "That I do. The Depth Reaches, the grand underground network of caverns and roads, aren't as wild as I showed you two. This waystation is an example. On top of that Solembum's unexpected revelation of this Cul'gatan," at that Solembum piped up.

'Cul'gatan is plural. Cul'gata is singular.' He then continued to purr. They all looked at him. Suddenly Murtagh reached out, Solembum bounding away and Murtagh missing his tail by inches.

"Stupid cat, tell us more if you know so much." Solembum hissed with displeasure.

'I only know so much Murtagh. I am not sure why I know what I know. I am a feline. My instincts speak for themselves. I knew it was right to follow Eragon and I know what those places are called. I cannot explain why for I literally do not know.' Before Murtagh could respond a whistling sound was heard and a sharp crack. Murtagh covered the top of his head, his brow furrowed and lips pressed outward like a duck.

"Ow! That hurt." Angela stared at him blankly.

"Alone. Get it? Leave the feline folk alone. Tis the time to shut up and stop whining. Now, as I was saying," she glared at Murtagh, "the Depth Reaches were populated and defined in some areas. I know for a fact that this waystation should lead us out to a hidden entrance just east of Ceunon, towards the western edge of the great forest of Du Weldenvarden."

"Why didn't you call for us to use this then. That way we avoid all danger," Eragon said with his hands outstretched.

"Once again you shoot the arrow before sighting the target. I had thought of it, but didn't know a werecat's meow would open the gate. Also, Eragon, really now? You really think the Depth Reaches, especially here, is safe?" She inspected him with a look as if an owl was inspecting something annoying. He sat back subdued.

'Besides,' chimed in Saphira, 'we attract danger like no other.' Angela nodded excitedly as if suddenly taken over by a woodpecker.

"Yes and it's absolutely the spice of life!" They all rolled their eyes.

"Angela is, and I really do hate to admit it," she smiled at Murtagh, "right. We all attract danger like flies to carrion coated in honey." Saphira licked her chops. "So for me I believe the safest path is to avoid the Empire. I've been hiding from them and have no wish yet to confront them. I say we take our chances by turning our supplies into something useful and taking our chances beneath the earth. It is large enough for us to travel underneath there right?" Angela nodded.

"Those superstitious stone stubbings have nothing on these people. Tunnels? Bah! These areas of the Depth Reaches are truly something." Murtagh nodded as if that confirmed something.

"Then we can take the horses and everything else. We'll need a liter, potentially wheels with it. We can modify the saddles of the horses to carry more and, if you consent to it," he turned to Saphira, "modify yours as well." She dipped her head in acknowledgement. Soon they were in deep discussion about what else needed to be done.

* * *

Eragon stared out in the distance. He sat on the junction between Saphira's shoulders and neck. He felt a headache coming on. 'You need to meditate, go slow, and acknowledge your fear.' He sighed. She was right, as always.

'I will before we leave, Solembum is still scouting the local area. Once he's back we can eat and I'll meditate.' Before she could respond the sound of claw on rock met them and Solembum bound down to them. He liked his claws briefly before sidling up to Saphira and rubbing against her purring.

'What did you see,' she asked amusedly. He looked up at her.

'All business and no play…but alas I saw nothing of importance. If I had time I'd hunt mountain rats, but we don't. We are alone here.' Saphira nodded, pleased at this. Before any of them could say anything else a loud thump met them. They turned and went back to the waystation. They observed as Murtagh kicked at the left hand door on the dais. Angela sat there and turned as she heard them.

"Been trying to tell him I'd be glad to help, but he can't hear me over his tiny brain." He turned to her snarling.

"I'm perfectly intelligent and able herbalist." She sighed heavily.

"I don't mean the one in your thick skull." He blanched, turning red, before turning away and hitting the door harder. Angela chuckled. "Well, Saphira dear, just knock it down before he hurts himself." Saphira came forward, shoving Murtagh out of the way before knocking her front paw into the door. Immediately the wood splintered into millions of pieces.

'Have fun,' she said uninterestedly as she lay down in front. Murtagh went in, Solembum flitting with him. Eragon turned to Angela. She handed him his falchions.

"Not coming," he asked as he strapped them to his belt, gripping the walrus tusk handles. She smiled serenely and shook her head no. He ventured in. The room held stone basins of goods long perished, dried herbs turned gray and tumbling at a single touch, as well as various corroded metal pieces.

"Anything of interest," called Angela. Murtagh responded.

"No, just things long gone." They all left the room and went to the next one, finding the same things as the last.

"Up the stairs it is." Angela led the way smiling. She whipped out Tinkledeath and that watched in amazement as she cut through the corroded metal hinges as if they were butter.

"Albitr indeed," Eragon told her. She grinned. They held their questions for later, knowing Angela wouldn't reveal anything. They entered the room and suddenly Eragon felt the difference. His body was overcome with a metallic stench and his tongue felt thick as if swollen. Saphira could be heard growling at loud. Murtagh drew both of his swords, crossing them like in a cross. Angela sheathed Tinkledeath and withdrew a velvet pouch, removed a handful of silvery colored dust, and threw it into the air. It spread outward in a cloud and suddenly the whole room glowed slightly. It glowed violet and Angela sucked in a breath. They looked at her.

"Magic, powerful magic, exists here, still." Eragon and Saphira joined minds, ready to do battle.

'What if, NO. I acknowledge my fear. I accept it, but I have you so I can beat it.' He felt her pride in his words. Even if the mantra's were simple they still kept his feelings at bay. As they all inched forward, dust on the green-gray stone billowing up in soft puffs, something leapt out from the shadows.

Murtagh yelled in shock as a stone sphere, five feet tall and five feet wide, stood before them. However it was secure in a golden ring, small cogs whirling around as it spun, eight legs of the same golden material ending in sharp silver blades. Runes ran along it in whirling lines, slightly glowing. The stone sphere spun and a slit opened facing them. A glowing crystal eye, cyan, stared at them. Suddenly it lashed out. Murtagh deflected the blades, locking one and twisting till it broke.

The cogs activated and the seven legs readjusted, widening along the rim of the ring. Saphira roared, 'Bring it forth so I may bathe it in flame!' Solembum bounded from the room, Angela following. Eragon launched three arrows from his bow but they merely bounced off. He cursed. Suddenly, as Murtagh was deflecting more blows, the sphere launched two blades connected to golden chains. Eragon held out his bow, reflexively, and a pained cry ripped from him as they pierced the aged wood of the longbow Garrow had made for him.

The bow was ripped from his hands. Without even thinking Eragon reached for Saphira and reached for magic. He whipped his falchion out and brought it straight into his hand. He felt no pain as Saphira took it for him and he let the ancient words from Du Domia abr Blohd fall from his lips.

The spell caused his blood to whip up in two thin, ribbon like streams. Quick as a striking pit viper they wrapped around the metal frame. Eragon and Murtagh moved backwards. The sentinel followed, its movement's jerky. It tried to launch another blade, but the moment the chains appeared the blade broke off. They had rusted and already flakes of ocher filled the air.

"Jump," yelled Murtagh and they both turned and leapt off the crescent balcony, Eragon pulling the falchion from his hand. The wound to both flesh and material closed instantly. As the stone sphere stumbled to the door, Saphira opened her maw, flames bathing it for a few seconds. As she stopped, believing she had triumphed, she roared in rage and shock.

"It's resistant to dragon flame! Quickly, Saphira, crush the damned thing!" Even Angela seemed frightened. With a mighty roar Saphira brought up her massive right foreleg and side swiped the mechanized enemy. The contraption slammed into the wall, rusted gears giving way and smashing, as the stone cracked. The light emanating from the crystal eye died.

* * *

The companions observed the sentinel, as Angela told them was what it was, and revealed the metal used was bronze. "Resistant to dragon fire, but not blood magic," Eragon asked. She had nodded grimly.

"They were used to fighting dragons **with** blood magic so we're lucky I gave you that book." Eragon appeared disturbed by this news and couldn't help but rub his hands. Saphira sniffed the remains with derision clear on her face.

'It may have resisted my flame, but it could not deny my strength.' Solembum sniffed the stone; his ears pressed back, and made a low throaty growl.

"Come," said Murtagh, sheathing his words, "let's check again. I'm curious as to why it activated and why it didn't activate to our presence when we first arrive." He looked at Angela for that. She shrugged.

"May perhaps it guards only that room," she shrugged again and withdrew Albitr and lead the way upstairs. Solembum hopped onto Saphira, clearly not wishing to put himself in danger again, and Eragon and Murtagh slowly moved upstairs. Murtagh unsheathed and Eragon brought up his falchions. His left arm out in front of him, the blade horizontal, while his right arm was over his head, the blade pointing back.

"Light, Eragon. Light, Murtagh." Two werelights, blue and red, were swirling around to the center of the room. They looked up, noticing a pillar at the end of the room where it clearly sat. They jumped back. Two pillars on either side of the center one still had sentinels, the eight legs hunched inwards like a spiders. The blades could be seen retracted up into the legs. The companions stayed utterly still as Saphira prepared to knock them away if they were led out.

Finally Angela turned slightly and looked at Eragon. "Draw up a shield," and he nodded drawing the glyphs for warning, binding, and gravity. With a whispered incantation they flew forward, the air around the sentinels shimmering. Eragon's strength dropped precipitously. He was in danger if he wasn't careful. He would no longer be able to perform anything more than basic spells for the rest of the day.

At that they moved forward slowly. "They must guard those doors," Murtagh whispered motioning to two metal doors, green with age. They moved slowly. They passed onto a carpet, old, the color worn. A fire place was set to their left. Only soot remained of the last logs that had burned there. As they got closer to the sentinels Angela hissed out, "stop." They did so.

She withdrew from her bandolier a clay bird. She breathed on it. It came to life and flew forth. Quick as a flash the sentinels' panels opened, cyan colored crystals glowing, but the limbs moved with immense slowness. With a shout she lunged forward, bringing Tinkledeath threw one, the sword stopping halfway as the sound of shrieking metal filled the air and red sparks flew from the creature. Murtagh dashed forward, his blades crashing against the limbs of the other.

Eragon got low to the ground and cast marks of breaking and unbinding on his falchions. He then rushed forward; glad Angela had trained him in this unique fighting style. "Bring them together," he bellowed. Both of his companions pulled and the force of their blades stuck in the sentinels brought them crashing from their perches. Eragon sliced outwards in a cross. Suddenly both of the sentinels shattered into pieces. They all stood there after, breathing heavily. Angela was the first to sheathe her weapon.

"Alls well that ends well. Good thinking of using the marks," She turned to the doors. "Eragon, Murtagh, check if these doors are ensorcelled." Both cast out detection spells.

"Once, there was powerful magic binding these doors, but it has long since faded. They are safe to open if they are unlocked." With that Murtagh walked forth, warily, and reached for the door handle. Suddenly an overwhelming sense of danger came over Eragon. He lunged forward, seized Murtagh's collar, and pulled him backwards. Right where Murtagh stood three stone beams came down. The beams were carved with beings unlike any Eragon had ever seen. They had elongated oval eyes, huge rectangular heads, short squat bodies, clawed hands, and necklaces of what looked to be shells.

"Well then…good thinking." Angela turned, her mouth slightly agape.

"You're nearly turned into human preserve and all you can say is 'good thinking'!?" Eragon sighed and moved forward, not detecting anymore danger.

'Move as if the ground is to give away to the bowels of the earth,' said Saphira with caution. Eragon nodded and opened the first door. He was surprised to find large drawstring bags and piles of wooden boxes, all bound by old and fraying rope. Angela went to the next door and she peered in. It was the same.

"Hmm…might as well remove it then, carefully." Murtagh then cast a detection spell and informed them he couldn't sense any magic hindering them.

* * *

On an opposing mountain perch, about half of a quarter league away; little did the companions know that they were being watched over by another. A woman, garbed in black and bone with a billowing viridian cloak, observed them with one green eye open. She looked, uncaring, as if she were dead, devoid of emotion. She turned the crystal set in the scope she peered through and watched as the picture shifted to a higher resolution. Saphira's scales glittered in the light of the remaining dragon fire, kept alive by burning furniture fragments.

"Well, well," her voice was lyrical, soft, and echoed slightly as if passing through water and wind. "What do we have here?" She flicked back the hood of her cloak and fingered her tapered ear, touching the single flower shaped amethyst earring, the rubies in its center glinting with the fel glow of three sickly green werelights floating above her head.

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Much has occurred and much will be seen. Eragon has awoken, but the nightfoil tea was only a temporary fix. He still needs to figure out why his past memories are rending his mind. Angela seems more and more mysterious. Will Saphira start to trust her again? Murtagh has been silent, brooding, almost as if just the muscle. But what of his thoughts? Finally...a new character watches from a far. Who is she and, most of all..., what does she want?**

 **End Notes:**

 **Stonescrub - A mountain weed, bramble shaped, gray**

 **Emberflow - A thick, glowing red potion that looks like lava. It provides a heat barrier to prevent ice from forming and keeps snowfall away.**

 **The Waystation - This place may seem important, and it is in some respects, but it's really just a glorified inn. It's a post between the surface world and the Depth Reaches, originally used to gather information and get a hot meal before going in either direction.**

 **The Depth Reaches - SURPRISE EVERYONE! Alagaesia...has a world beneath it! The Depth Reaches are hundreds of leagues below the surface and are a series of interconnecting caverns, caves, and entire country size pieces of land deep below the earth. It possesses many wonders...and even more dangers.**

 **Cul'gata/Cul'gatan - Settlements of the species that built the waystation, cul'gata is singular, cul'gatan is plural**

 **Du Domia abr Blohd - AN UPDATE: This compendium has taught Eragon how to use the ancient language to manipulate his own blood into both defenses and weapons as well as augment his own abilities.**

 **Sentinels - Large stone orbs encircled by a bronze ring of machinery with eight legs ending in sharp blades that can be launched on metal cords at enemies. Possesses a glowing cyan crystal "eye" that provides the spell that brings the machine to life.**


	6. Val'synra the Whispering End

**SURPRISE! Its been one of those weeks where really good things happen...and then other things happen that make you want to drown your sorrows in ice cream. I did just that...after hitting the gym for an extra hour than I normally would. So after the positive responses I've seen I decided to reward with the sixth chapter a little early.**

 **On another note I will be going through and cleaning up grammar and continuity errors on the story so if you see slight changes to words just know that it's probably been cleaned up. There is no plot change.**

 **I will post, hopefully after this as I still need to work on it, by late tonight an encyclopedia of content both from the cycle and of my own creation. It will be under the title "Tempering the Edge: Encyclopedia"**

 **Responses:**

 **catherine10: I'm glad your enjoying!**

 **NaerysTargaryen: The Depth Reaches are naturally formed. I'm not gonna say just how deep or far they go, but lets just say even Galby's insane little mind would go bonkers at all that was to be discovered. Another example) Jeod might actually die from happiness because of how much fun he could have learning about them**

 **ENJOY! PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

Murtagh's hacking cough filled the waystation, forcing him to kneel over and clutch the table, and he shoved the dusty bottle away. Angela clapped, laughing merrily at his predicament. "I told you," she laughed, "not to take such a large swig. This whiskey is more than old." She laughed again.

Solembum licked at his paw, ignoring the laughing. _**'Annoying,'**_ he thought. If Eragon had heard him he would've made it clear he felt the same way. He sorted through more bags. Octagon shaped coins of gold; stamped with seals in a language he had no knowledge of, formed small piles on the table. Blood colored rubies and black pearls followed. Ancient bronze short swords, the handles fitted with holes for fingers and flat rectangular blades, as well as bundles of arrows. They were a black colored wood, thick and dense, with bronze heads in the shape of barbed feathers. A shield, embossed in red leather, had a motif of a fierce flaming bird.

' _ **Alright, that's enough from you two.'**_ Saphira sniffed at a jar of preserved fruits, turned golden brown with immense age. Angela still chuckled but turned back to the table and picked up a ring, lapis lazuli, a ram head carved on the top.

"Fascinating," she pulled out a tiny magnifying glass and inspected the ring. Eragon counted out more coins and precious stones. Murtagh, after taking a huge swig of water this time, picked up a statue. It was carved in the same shape of the creatures on the pillars in the vault room. He looked at it with distaste.

"What's that," asked Angela distractedly as she observed another ring of the same make. Murtagh shrugged and set it down. As he did so a sound rung out and they all paused and locked at the statue.

' _ **It's hollow,'**_ said Solembum, turning back to inspecting his paws. Angela and Eragon joined him, staring at the statue warily, but eventually Angela picked up the statue and inspected it with the magnifying glass. She eventually found and fingered a sliver of crystal.

"It's ensorcelled close, but I can't tell the nature of the spell. No clue how to open or close the damn thing." She set it down, turning back to the other goods, clearly interested in moving on.

"We'll take it with us, but for now think nothing of it." With that Eragon turned back and continued to sift through the other items. Murtagh grunted.

"Oh ho…what is this," said Angela with interest. They watched her pull out a rather long box, wrapped in canvas, bound by a bronze chain. She unwound the chain and pulled off the canvas. It was a rosewood case, ivory inlaid, with silver scroll work on the rim. They both came over to her and inspected it.

"Any magic," inquired Murtagh. Angela shook her head no. He grunted and then motioned up and down. "You can tell by the size that whatever in there is long. It's most likely a bow, but if a bladed weapon it will be a great sword. Maybe a short spear." She nodded.

"Well, this is rather fascinating." Angela fingered the ornate scroll work and tipped the case back. "This," she pointed at the script, "is language I recognize." Single horizontal lines with various designs underneath them, elegant curves and thorny tips, ran along the entire length of the rim.

"Is it from the beings who built this place," Eragon asked curiously. She cocked her head to the side and then surprised them with the answer.

"Sort of." Solembum jumped up and pawed at the case, sniffing it,

' _ **She seems surprised and unsure,'**_ Saphira flicked out her tongue. Eragon inquired to what she sensed and thought. All she said was, _**'old.'**_ He nodded.

"This case holds a weapon, a ranged weapon like you said Murtagh, unlike any you currently know of. The weapon was created by beings who were indeed members of this civilization. This weapon is named in the language of the people who built this place, but the forgers are the not the same species as them. The forgers are the progenitors," here she gave pause before shocking them, "of werecats." She flicked open the clasps, and lifted. They all gasped and Solembum meowed.

The recurve longbow was made of an inky black wood, the ends covered in a bone like material carved into the shape of dragon skulls. The tips of the horns on each head were sharp spikes of blued steel. Blue steel filigree with spiny leaves of amethyst rang along the whole length. The bow was strung, but the string wasn't sinew. It was a strand of white gold. "The writing," Angela pointed. "It names the bow as…" she peered down, "Val'synra, the Whispering End. It is a weapon of no little magic. However it's been forged more recently. The weresabres, for those were indeed who created this, didn't possess these techniques for forging steel or spinning minerals till near the end." Solembum was wide eyed, standing completely still, gazing upon the bow. Angela pulled back and removed her scarf and dabbed at her head. "I need to think," and then she went to the opening and began to puff on her pipe.

"What's her issue," wondered Murtagh aloud though he reached forward for the bow before stopping. His eyes flicked to Angela.

' _ **No need for pause, the magic isn't active. The dialect is old but I recognize some of the writing.'**_ Solembum's voice was shaky. He seemed to be having an emotional reaction. He closed his eyes, then suddenly jumped off the table, crawled up Saphira, and curled up at the joint between her shoulders and neck. Saphira turned back and brushed him with the tip of her snout.

Murtagh took out the bow. "It is light," and he twirled it around. It seemed to shimmer in the air as he whipped it about. As he spun it again Angela came up and plucked it out of his hands and inspected the ends, tapping them with her fingers.

"Ah ha, just as I thought, weresabre ivory." She put it down in the case and went about gathering up the archaic arrows. She found a quiver, black leather and bronze motifs decorating the side. She filled it and then gave the quiver to Eragon as well as shoved the bow case towards him. At the quizzical looks she received she only shrugged and said, "Your old one was destroyed, I don't have use for it, and Murtagh already has a bow. You keep it." Eragon inspected the bow and slowly became elated. While he missed his old one, the remains having been packed away in a bag, this new bow was clearly a weapon of war. Angela walked over to their piles of supplies and looked to the boys. "Come on then, no point in wasting time." She began to pull things apart. Normally they would've questioned, but for once her no nonsense mood brooked any argument.

* * *

Murtagh brushed off his hands. They were finished. A two wheeled liter was strung to the back of Tornac. They had used a good amount of supplies and now anything they had left over, found in the waystation, or the necessary foodstuffs were tucked away neatly. _**'This contraption will have difficulty in the Depth Reaches,'**_ noted Saphira.

"Yes, yes it will Bjartskular, but we'll manage," Angela patted Saphira on the jowls and picked up her own rucksack. She tightened her bandolier and then looked at the boys. "We have plenty of time. The day is only half over. We might as well make some progress." She seemed eager to leave the premises.

"What is the matter with you," Murtagh asked, hands resting on his sword's hilt. "I'm eager to be gone as well for I don't wish to tarry, but you seem unnaturally worried." Angela harrumphed.

"No such thing as unnaturally worried my dear. In my view being worried is such a waste of time and you can't be unnaturally worried, though unnatural things can worry you." He blinked like an owl at her and turned to Eragon who had long ago lost interest. His head was throbbing.

"If you must know I am indeed wanting to be off. We left behind a trail. On top of that I've no clue if that doorway will close or not," she pointed to the entrance, "and I'd rather not be here to find out if the Empire will see it or not. We need to leave, **now**."

Eragon turned to Murtagh and nodded, picking up his wooden frame pack, and taking Snowfire's reigns to the ceramic door. Suddenly Eragon realized something. "Umm Angela? How is Saphira supposed to get in there?" She looked at him bewildered before realizing.

"Oh, yes…well increase the size of the whole so Saphira can wiggle on through." Saphira balked at that.

' _ **I am NOT going to crawl through a dirt hole like a common weasel. Think of what would happen to my scales. They'll chip off.'**_ Her vanity was not currently amusing and Angela let her know so in not so many words. Before an argument could begin Eragon reached out with magic and muttered a spell.

"Deloi Moi." Soon a hole big enough for Saphira to get through had formed. However it left his head absolutely screaming for relief and he gulped down ice water from the hollowed out gourd he used for travel.

"Saphira, please, just do it. Angela is right. We left a trail and should be off," Eragon rubbed at his temple. Saphira could sense his pain and grudgingly slithered outside and forced herself into the ground only because Eragon didn't need an argument.

Murtagh nodded, resolved to the going ons and shouldered his own pack before leading Tornac to the door. Solembum hopped into the liter determined to take a long nap. Angela smiled.

"Into the deep we go," she sung out merrily.

* * *

"Audr." The woman flung to the top of the mountain with the whispered word. She alighted on a patch of sparse grass with clear signs of habitation. Impressions in the ground from humans and horses as well as claw marks of a dragon and the paws of a large cat were easily visible. The remains of a fire left a sooty spot in the center.

She waved her hand, muttering incantations, and the area soon returned to normal. She knocked an arrow to her bow and stalked forward, low, as she approached the archway that opened the waystation. She moved slowly, her greaved knee high boots making no sound. She then somersaulted into a large pine tree next to the entrance.

She narrowed her dead eyes before spinning and back flipping off the branch as a massive paw, the size of a barrel lid, swiped for her. She set her mouth in a thin line and glared at the massive bone white sabretooth cat looking down at her with bright red eyes. Black stripes ran down its back and side.

The woman whipped her head back and narrowed her eyes, mentally jabbing at her attacker. It shook its head in annoyance. _**'No reason for that, alfa.'**_

"Silence," her eerily echoed voice cut through the air. As usual the massive cat's hair stood on end. She whipped around, pulling her viridian hood up and stalking forward. The sabretooth jumped down and followed. As they entered he turned to the entrance and uttered a deep roar. Immediately the stones forming the low stone wall on the outside rose up, piece by piece, and closed. They were sealed in darkness, the only light coming from the red feline eyes. Suddenly three fel green werelights appeared, spun to the top, and illuminated the room. The remains of the sentinel became visible in the right corner next to the stairs. The sabretooth cat slunk over.

' _ **Humph, they fought a sentinel. I'm amazed the fools survive...well the two humans that is,'**_ the sabretooth sniffed the sentinel's remains. The woman came over, sheathing her arrow, and brushed at the soot covering one of the legs. Her leather gauntlet left behind a clear line.

"Dragon fire, from the great azure beast we saw," she stood and began casting out spells. In the ancient language she spoke of past events and identity, of the reactions to the earth of its interactions with other kind, and of direction and knowing which way they had come and gone from.

' _ **You really don't think that witch wouldn't cover her tracks.'**_ The woman didn't respond other than to flick her hands about at the clear signs of habitation.

' _ **I stand corrected, a rare thing for my kind.'**_ The woman merely looked at him; silvery white eyebrow rising up, and responded.

"You're old." Her spells left a gossamer web of magical strands over the floor. Ghostly prints could be seen, marking where any had walked, however the greatest strands were colored indigo and covered the open door at the top of the crescent balcony. "Come" and she ran, leaped, somersaulted, and landed deftly on the edge. The great cat followed in two leaps, claws elongating, as the woman knocked an arrow.

They stalked forward carefully. Two more sentinels, ripped almost in half, were splayed on the floor. "What do you smell, weresabre?" He growled low at her.

' _ **You know my name, alfa.'**_ She observed him with contempt.

"Names are powerful things. You know this and don't refer to me by name. Leave it be and tell me what was here. My spells cannot make the information clear. All they detect is magic and the fact that it's old." The weresabre sniffed and then chuffed at the air. His ears set back and his growled low.

' _ **Chaugaulacis,'**_ he said as if the answer made him feel sick to his stomach. He then turned and stalked low from the room. After a quick search and not finding anything of interest the woman followed her companion from the room. He lay underneath the werelight inspecting his paws.

"What is Chaugaulacis," she asked as she leaned on her bow. Long ago the weresabre hadn't been forthcoming, but soon learned that his new companion was less forthcoming than even the most guarded of his kind. So he had to become the talkative one and that was absolutely relative to them.

' _ **A Chaugaulacis, for it is an object not the name of just one, is in fact a type of ancient longbow made by my kind for use in humanoid form. They were first crafted during the Second Barrow War when necromancy was used to raise our ancestors against us. The Asdhur, though then we were not as integral to each other, taught us techniques to shape our bones and flesh into weapons. We turned our own fangs and the bones of our past into somewhat sentient weapons. Over time the techniques were refined until we could forge the ultimate ranged weapon. Those techniques are long gone. Only the alfakyn come close today to matching our prowess,'**_ and he observed her bow with a critical eye.

She inspected the string for a while before removing a piece of jerky and chewing on it as she let a small flame flicker about her hand. When she finished eating she put out the werelights and moved to the ceramic gate. The weresabre followed her. _**'So you still plan on following.'**_ It was a statement.

"Yes, I do. After all…to catch the prey I first need the bait." She smashed the ceramic gate with her foot and bound down to the path way. The massive cat rolled his eyes, but followed. _**'Someone has to keep The Dark Lady out of trouble after all,'**_ he reminded himself. Hopefully he'd be able to convince her, as he'd been trying to, that this endeavor was pure suicide.

* * *

For a few days and nights they traveled along narrow pathways without much incident. White werelights and torches were constantly lit. The ledges of these underground passes were steep and they weren't able to see the bottom. At times their wards warned them of danger and it ended up being air that fell still and dead. Sometimes pockets of poisonous gas ruptured and they'd have to conjure a bubble to ensure they could breathe as they moved through the foul smog. Overall it was a rather boring experience considering the constant trials and tribulations of the north. On the fourth night of camping under pure shadow they saw lights in the distance as theirs were extinguished.

"What is it," whispered Murtagh to Angela who lay against a rock and peered out. Solembum lay asleep next to her as if he was rather unconcerned.

"Looks to me like fluorescent plants, but I could be wrong." She narrowed her eyes. Saphira snaked her head down.

' _ **Should we inspect it,'**_ and Eragon echoed her sentiments. Angela shrugged.

"There are plenty of dangers down here, more so than the surface world, but I'm not sure. I really don't know. I'm surprised we haven't run into some of them already, especially those nasty Voranarch." Before they could even ask she continued with words that sent Eragon and Murtagh's scalp a tingling, "intelligent arachnoids that have lived down here for years and have the allegiance of all other arachnids. Rather disgusting creatures, very xenophobic, rather like to eat two legged humanoids." She took out an eyeglass and a wooden pipe, locking them together, and peered out.

"Yep, definitely plants. Oh goodie," she cheered slightly, causing everyone to shush her. "Oh please calm down. There are mushrooms there. Fluorescent ones!" She clapped slightly and went about gathering supplies. They heard a thump and she groaned.

"Werelight, boys, werelight!" Murtagh sighed but cast out a red orb.

"Angela it would be safer to go in the morning," said Eragon in a calm voice. His meditation that day had been hard, but four straight days of little danger and worry had allowed him to create a modicum of peace within his naturally raging mind.

"Nonsense. Besides the only way we can tell if its morning or night is because of that annoying timepiece. What would happen if I accidentally dropped it off the ledge? Anywho a nighttime adventure would do us good. It's been so terribly boring since we left the waystation." As if that was final she strapped on her bandolier and withdrew her poniard. Solembum padded after her as she wandered off. Murtagh made a series of exasperated sounds before slinging on his quiver and picking up his bow.

"No," said Eragon, "stay here with Saphira and guard the camp. I'll handle this." He then loped off into the night after Angela.

* * *

Using his own conjured werelight Eragon deftly moved about, looking for the light tracks of his two companions. A few minutes later he came to a wide ridge and crossed over to a plateau. Here he found Angela positively giddy. Patches of fluorescent chartreuse lichen covered multiple rocks and patches of earth while a thin stream of water, maybe a foot deep, wound through the area. Bunches of electric blue mushrooms with bright white stalks popped up every few feet and it was at one of these bunches that Angela now stood with various instruments surrounding her.

She looked up as she heard him approach. "Look at this, look at this! Entirely new species! I've never seen these before! Look," she grabbed his hand. She pulled on a wool glove with leather padded fingers and picked up a brass rod. It was the same kind of rod that first shocked him in Angela's shop in Teirm. She held it to the mushrooms and before it touched a spark ran in between the mushroom cap and rod. "It's a natural bio-conductor! Simply marvelous!"

"Angela," Eragon sighed exasperatedly, "is this really the time?"

"Oh it's always the time to learn!" With that she began chattering away about electricity, conductivity, how the mushrooms might be accomplishing such things, and more. As Eragon tried to absorb the information he noticed the lack of a certain aloof werecat.

"Where is Solembum," Angela looked up at that, cutting off her discussion of how the mushroom might be using the electricity and looked around.

"Oh he was here briefly then stalked off, sniffing this way and that." She then returned to the mushroom. After a few more minutes Eragon told her he wanted to look around, just to be rid of her chattering, and quickly walked off.

A few yards away he came to a pool surrounded by not just lichen and mushrooms, but patches of moss. As he observed it he heard skittering and looked up alert, hands launching to his twin falchions. Soon a cat like shape appeared as he started to slip them from their sheaths. Solembum sat down in front of him, pawing at the moss. He groaned. "Between you and Angela I'll end up with a heart attack." Solembum flicked an ear.

* * *

' _ **You are foolish.'**_ The weresabre was lying down as they observed the werecat and human from above the pool. The rock was devoid of life, save them, and a massive net was currently being checked over by the cloaked woman. She moved her hand along the black mesh with a small green spark.

"Silence," she hissed out. Her voice had dropped so low only the massive feline could hear her odd voice. "It's almost time." She finished her work and stood, inspecting. She nodded her head once and then peered over the edge with her bow in one hand. "It seems they aren't completely separated. To close for a clean shot. Not to worry. Secondary move." She stalked back to the sabretooth and waved her head. Her spell deactivated and the folds of shadow and light fell away. Two massive chests, iron bound, floated down and set on the rock. The tops sprung open.

She removed a jar of foul yellow vapor and without ceremony tossed it over her shoulder as the weresabre gave a huge mental sigh. _**'You really ought to talk to someone about your lack of people skills.'**_

* * *

Just as Eragon turned to head back he heard a whistling sound and then he jumped in shock as a glass jar shattered, a sickly yellow smoke starting to spread anywhere. Solembum bounded away instantly as if his tail were on fire. Within seconds Angela was at Eragon's side pulling him away. "Chlorine gas! And…what in Angvard's name…it's replicating! Run!" Eragon looked behind him and was shocked to see the gas spreading, ghostly specters seemingly made of the substance crawling outward.

They ran helter-skelter. Solembum had clearly reached Saphira for a great roar shook the cavern, unmistakably draconic in origin. Angela moaned. "I understand she's upset, but if the Voranarch didn't know we were here they do now. Their webbing vibrates from tremors and that includes sound," she muttered. As they approached the camp Murtagh could be seen saddling the horses and stuffing everything into bags. Before he could speak a sharp screech was heard close by, stone on stone.

"Voranarch passages probably," said Angela grimly. Murtagh withdrew Zar'roc and picked up the ancient shield.

"Which way out?" He was in battle mode. Angela motioned to the right, down an adjacent pathway. He spurred the horses into action and the five companions and their two beasts flew down the steep incline. The liter bounced and bobbed as they moved away from potential enemies and the advancing chlorine cloud. They came to a wide opening, stalagmites and stalactites everywhere. "Well," asked Murtagh. Angela looked about the floor then motion slightly to the east.

"Down this way, it runs along the shore line and the mountains there." They moved as quickly as possible, routinely looking behind. Little did they notice a woman bobbing and weaving along, pouncing from pinnacle to pinnacle or that she was followed by a slinking feline the size of a large ox.

The companions came to a large drop, but were surprised to see the bottom. "There must be a way down," muttered Eragon. They all set about searching along the rim until Saphira called out.

' _ **Look here, ancient stairs. The same material as the waystation's grate.'**_ She pointed with a claw and immediately the companions cajoled the horses down the worn steps. Just as they reached the bottom they stopped in shock. A long sleek boat was moored at a stone slab, worn with use, on an inky black river. The boat was a dark wood, slim in its design almost like a canoe, but wide enough to have three people stand abreast. A square cabin with a hip-and-gable roof was lighted with four odd shaped purple flameless lanterns. Two large fins of dark green sea glass fanned up from the back. Murtagh immediately spun around.

"We've walked into an ambush." Just as he said that a massive black net launched out of the darkness and ensnared Eragon. He cried out in pain as electric shocks ran through him. Saphira roared, moving to slash away at the net surrounding her thrashing rider. As she did so a mighty roar not so unlike her own came from the darkness and a massive white cat, ten times the size of Solembum, leaped out and latched onto her throat.

The adventurers watched in shock as Saphira whipped her neck around and dislodged the cat. _**'Watch over Eragon, he's been forced unconscious again! I'll handle this overgrown furball,'**_ she growled out. They all ran to the rider, three arrows meeting the ground right in front of their feet as they came close. Jumping back, they spun around. An individual, cloaked, ran from the ledge and jumped down the twenty feet. The person rolled, sprung up, and launched three more arrows. Murtagh hid behind his shield and took them. He was launched backwards with incredible concussive force.

' _ **The strength of the shooter is monstrous,'**_ he thought as he tried to take breaths of air so as to ensure he wouldn't pass out. Angela was launching bottles of substances, which the user deftly knocked away with their bow, sending the objects spinning away with perfect accuracy. None of them broke until they landed far from the vicinity. Solembum pounced, but the shooter spun, disappearing in a flash of shadow. They rematerialized and kicked Solembum into the air, jumping up, corkscrewing, and launching him with a powerful kick right at Murtagh.

The swordsman held out his arms and caught the shaken and injured werecat. He looked up and yelped as a black rope with stone malachite orbs on either end wrapped around him and Solembum. He struggled and the ropes tightened even more. He heard a roar and bright flash.

Saphira bathed the shore in blue and white flames, the massive predator she fought dodging out of her way. It had a few nasty gashes of its own, but its swiftness and smaller size made it a dangerous foe. Saphira's neck and head were fast, but her foe was pure speed. It launched again, this time to her right hind leg and clamped down. Saphira growled and whacked it with her tail.

Murtagh looked back as he heard the clash of metal on something he couldn't exactly place. He gaped in shock. Angela was wielding Tinkledeath, but much to her clear shock, their foe was besting it with her own hands. An eerie green light surrounded them and every time she struck out it sounded as if her palm struck flat on stone. "You will not best us, elf!"

Angela was angry now as she somersaulted away from her foe. As she landed she unsheathed a large bell and rung. The elf, for if Angela was right then that would explain the speed and ability to sneak up on them, paused as if unsure. It then started forward as a great conscious, old and feral, roared out, _**'No, my Lady, don't!'**_

A great concussive blast launched the elf back. Her viridian cloak whipped off and Angela and Murtagh gasped. Even Saphira paused. The elven woman was beautiful, but in a darker way. Her tawny skin had a slightly ashen look to it as if she'd spent time in a grave. Her green eyes stared as if dead, but they had a dangerous look to them as if holding back untold amounts of rage. Her lustrous black hair was the color of night, but a single strip of silver ran through it. Her armor was very flattering to her figure and in some places not practical for it left her exposed, but based on her skills displayed Murtagh doubted it was an issue. She was clearly a deadly opponent. Her expression became lined with icy lines of rage.

She hissed out something Murtagh couldn't hear. Three sickly green werelights appeared. They then erupted into green flames. "Murtagh, get down!" Angela was wide eyed with fright and bared her arms as the world seemed to shimmer around her and she dipped low. Before she could finish shifting reality, for Murtagh new that was the goal, a white blur belted past her. The massive feline landed behind the elf. Saphira stormed after it.

Just as Saphira came to where Angela stood the elf woman activated her spell. She whipped her hands in front of her in various signs, then around her wrists multiple flat circles of green energy formed, runes spinning among them and around a rather odd six pointed symbol. She then held her hands up to the sky, claw like.

The flaming werelights launched forward with a crackling sound, one after the other, expanding to three feet each. The companions were knocked out as a massive concussive force of spring green flames met them. Saphira flew backwards, landing on her left wing, Murtagh and Solembum knocked against a rock at the shore, and Angela was left lying in a smoldering crater. Without missing a beat the elf woman jumped forward, picked up Eragon, tossed him in the boat, and unmoored the black ship.

With that she and her primal companion set off down the river into the dark recesses of the Depth Reaches.

* * *

' _ **That was completely foolish of you! That bell used sound to create a binding wave and now all of your wards are stripped from you! The shade could find you easily now if he looked with care! On top of that you used an incredibly dangerous offense spell! Your recklessness will be the end of you!'**_ The weresabre's fur stood on end, his face set in a snarl, teeth showing. Unfortunately for him his companion could care less by the looks of it. She was standing over their captive, observing him intently.

"He's beginning to look like one of us," she said after some while. The sabretooth, still furious, stalked over and look at him. The human was indeed gaining more angular features. His cheekbones were prominent on his pale face, his ears slightly tapered, and his lips were fuller. His complexion was pale and his short hair, though thick, was dark. He sniffed him.

The scent of forest, magic, dragon, and a human met his nostrils. He shook his head. The combination was like the scent of a dusky pine mixed with charred meat and sweat. An underlying hint of a thick metallic taste like blood came after. He smelt of power, untold power, and danger, but youth as well. Before he could say anything the elf woman turned away and inspected the ship. She gave instructions in the ancient language and the ship adjusted accordingly. "We'll be home in due time," she had switched completely to the ancient language. The great feline joined her.

' _ **You'll have much to answer for. The youth will be quite upset as will your own council.'**_ At this the woman laughed, a somewhat musical sound akin to birds chirping and glass breaking, before looking down at the weresabre.

"I am the Dark Lady, Queen of the Shadow Elves, and High Master of the Ghost Striders. None shall challenge my prerogative. I have my bait and soon my prey will be in my hands."

The weresabre harrumphed. _**'And then, Your Majesty,'**_ he asked mockingly. She didn't notice his tone, her face setting into stone.

"And then," she whispered, "Durza will be mine."

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Eragon is knocked out, again. He's been kidnapped and everyone else is knocked out. The stalker turned kidnapper is a female elf and she's being accompanied by a giant sabretooth cat. Sounds like trouble is on the horizon.**

 **End Notes:**

 **Val'synra, the Whispering End (Val-sin-Ra): A Chaugaulacis, a kind of recurve longbow, with currently unknown properties. Forged in the past using weresabre fang ivory and white gold. Relatively new chaugaulacis in terms of techniques used.**

 **Weresabre - Massive sabretooth cats that are ten times the size of werecats and progenitors. Old beyond reckoning and possessing the ability to live for multiple millennium. There civilization has long since disbanded.**

 **Chaugaulacis (Haw-gow-luh-siss) - A bow made of spun minerals and weresabre ivory that has been spelled into shapes. Set on a wooden frame.**

 **Second Barrow War - A war between factions of weresabre's with one side engaging in necromancy. Resulted in the Asdhur, then just allies of the Weresabres, teaching the weresabre's how to manipulate flesh, ivory, blood, and bone with magic.**

 **Asdhur (As-thur) - A civilization of currently unknown humanoids, their civilization is an amalgamation of** **Hawaiian/Polynesian and Hindu Indian civilization. Check the encyclopedia for more details. Primarily lived in the Depth Reaches, skilled in masonry and blood magic.**

 **Voranarch - An arachnoid species of varying types, live in a caste system, have thrived since the Asdhur have been extinct**


	7. The Night Queen of Neth'Anyar (Ch7,p1)

**Well work has officially picked up steam to the point of insanity. That said its a good kind of insanity where I'm doing things I want to be doing. AGAIN! GO VOTE! ALWAYS VOTE!**

 **Now onwards...**

 **Couple of things - First off there is now an encyclopedia with basics covering the Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and Urgals. Please go look at this encyclopedia if you wish to have a visual idea of the world/need to know any original or book content. Book content is bold and original content is not. Secondly there will be things in the encyclopedia that are original and that WON'T be explained in the chapters so if anything confuses you, please go there. The same goes for my profile where there is a character/voice list. Thirdly I will be adding a dictionary as well for the original content so no more end notes. Fourthly and Finally please know that next week's update will be late. I am going to Nevada for a work trip for 5-6 days and won't have time to go over the chapter as much as I would like to before posting. Therefore I will be posting probably Monday (March 7th). I know this is late, but it's the best I can do. **

**Responses:**

 **catherine10 - I'm glad you're enjoying!**

 **Naerys Targaryen - I am thrilled you're enjoying this. Yeah the Depth Reaches are one of my favorite creations and I look forward to exploring them for a bit. However the surface world will be seen again soon.**

 **Mad Hatter - I understand what you're saying. The thing is that in the books Eragon and Saphira were turned into warriors. They have trained to be survivors in TtE. The difference here is that the strength they possessed in the books hasn't developed yet, but cunning and guile has. On top of that they have required unique skills that, while dangerous, will be useful in the future. I promise Eragon won't be so wimpy and that his hulk moment is coming soon. Thank you for the critique. Keep it coming!**

 **P.S. this chapter is short and is part 1 of the seventh chapter, but it's primarily to set the stage for the second part as well as introduce a new location and new characters.**

* * *

' _ **If fate,'**_ thought Eragon as his head throbbed painfully, _**'could please be so kind as to stop knocking me out I'd be forever thankful. At this rate one of Angela's slaps and I'll be drooling permanently for the rest of my life.'**_ He slowly opened his eyes. He had lain awake for an unknown amount of time. He had had trouble remembering the events until he finally recalled being knocked unconscious by the shocks of a great black net. He was surprised then to find himself propped against the side of the ship they had all seen, bound in black rope that tightened anytime he moved significantly.

He looked about, eyes narrowed. The roof of the cabin had purple erisdar, flameless lanterns, in the shape of skulls of some creature he couldn't place. His pack lay a good distance away as did his weapons. He inched upward slightly and the ropes tightened. He groaned in frustration. _**'If only I could,'**_

' _ **I wouldn't do that if I were you,'**_ sounded a deep and majestic voice in his mind. He whipped his head so fast the ropes tightened again. A great white sabretooth cat stalked towards him, red eyes alight. _**'Here,'**_ it said as it came to him. It made an odd gurgling sound with its nose and mouth, breathing on him. The ropes lessened, but didn't fall. _**'Now you won't end up strangling yourself by struggling though you cannot escape. Do not attempt that by the way. I'd be honor bound to stop you.'**_ The cat then curled up on the deck, lay his head down, and inspected him. Eragon threw up mental shields, focusing on memories of Saphira. The cat seemed amused and grinned.

' _ **A brave attempt, young Rider, but I do not seek entrance to your mind. I merely find myself bored.'**_ Eragon looked at him; for he was indeed a male by tell of his voice, with incredulity.

' _ **Since you seem intent on being rude, which is surprising for the witch would have taught you manners I thought, knowing her, but alas…I shall start.'**_ He pulled his head up and bowed it. _**'I am the weresabre Huulthraem, Master of Ages, last scion and Elder of the Snowmane Tribe, and chief adviser, majordomo, to The Night Queen.'**_ He looked at Eragon and waited. After a while he said with amusement, _**'The proper thing to do is to say hello and introduce yourself back.'**_ Eragon jerked slightly as if startled.

"Umm," he was cut off with a hiss.

' _ **Think your answers lest the queen hear us, she is inside looking over matters of state that sorely need attention since she's been gone.'**_

' _ **I do not give my name to my enemies willingly.'**_ Eragon closed off his mind again. Huulthraem rolled his eyes.

' _ **It will be discovered before long, Rider, for the Night Queen is not to be denied. Fortunately for you I am still inclined to help. She won't listen to me and…"**_ He trailed off, clearly exasperated and annoyed with this so-called Night Queen. He shook his great head and turned back. _**'In a few hours' time, for the spells on this ship ensorcell it with great speed, we will be at the capital of the Shadow Elves. This great settlement, Neth'Anyar, is well hidden and well-guarded. It was crafted from the remains of a cul'gata, a settlement, that by your hearts quickening reaction I know you know what it is. It has been expanded from its original form and shape and is now the greatest of homes of The Night Queen's people. Your companions are ill-equipped to find it. Conversing with me and understanding what I have to say will go a long way in ensuring your safety.'**_

Huulthraem then curled up, closing his eyes, content to ignore Eragon it seemed. The rider retreated deep within himself. He immediately thought of his companions. Saphira's reaction would be to struggle till free and then devour her enemies. He smiled lightly, but knew that wouldn't be possible. He then thought of the others and came to a conclusion.

' _ **Okay…what would Murtagh and Angela do…Murtagh would strategize and Angela would tell me to breathe."**_ Eragon did just that, closing his eyes, and envisioned the world around him. He tried to reach out to the world with his mind but felt his way blocked. _**'Magic,'**_ he thought grimly. He breathed again, and as he did he flashbacked to a sparring session with Murtagh…

* * *

 _Eragon groaned as he was knocked flat on his back again. Murtagh stood above him, breathing heavily, not exactly unharmed himself. "Again," he said. He stalked away as Eragon slowly got up from the dirt and retrieved the two newly made falchions. A rather nasty fight with a wolf that had left him battered and bruised, with three claw marks on his upper left arm for a permanent reminder, had necessitated the switch. Angela had introduced him to a fighting style she told him was name Gur'khagan. She had then revealed her huthvir, a weapon that dwarf priests used, and taught Eragon the way of Durgrimst Quan, the dwarven religious clan._

 _The northern woods and high mountains weren't suited to open arms combat. It required stealth and dexterity. On top of that greater constitution was needed to handle the larger foes as Murtagh now demonstrated. He inspected the falchions. At first they seemed to be large skinning knives, the handles made of large walrus tusks that served as pommel, grip, and the end guard carved of well treated cast iron. The blades shimmered, the water rippled steel perfect for taking blows. However Murtagh still bested him in an open field. Eragon stood his own with a regular sword and Murtagh routinely couldn't best him, but neither could he best Murtagh. However now…He groaned again. "This is pointless," he called out. Murtagh laughed._

" _You're not looking at the field. I watched your sessions. Gur'khagan and the Way of the Quan should've provided you at least a crucial lesson in knowing what you're looking at." He marched forward, gripping Eragon by the shoulders. "Look at the world around you. Tornac taught me that my first lessons in Uru'baen. It is ever more important now that you learn a new style. I already know how to fight in close quarters, but you being a rider means you must know more. On top of that remember what Angela said."_

 _Eragon sighed, but recited her words. "The King already knows the fighting styles you employ, but by learning mine you may trip him up just yet." Murtagh nodded and told him to take his stance again._

* * *

Eragon pulled back from the memory and breathed deeply as he calmed himself like Angela would. _**'Look at the world around me,'**_ so he did. He was in uncharted territory, literally, and his mind was blocked. Trying magic wasn't possible and an escape attempt would be dangerous as the weresabre had mentioned he'd stop him. On top of that there was an elf, and an alleged queen at that, so escape was absolutely out of the question. On top of that he had no weapons and was physically bound. He could attempt to break the bonds, but he didn't know his captors strength or power. He imagined it was formidable considering they had captured him. He breathed again coming to a decision.

' _ **Evan, my name is Evan.'**_ He directed the thought to the weresabre who flicked an ear, not waking, but responded.

' _ **You lie.'**_ Eragon was taken aback, throwing up mental shields. The weresabre shifted, stretching and yawning, revealing just how long his fangs were. Eragon's forearm was about two inches shorter than them. He gulped.

' _ **She taught you to observe though…good, then I may speak with you.'**_ The weresabre padded forward and sat directly in front of him. _**'You are in grave danger.'**_

' _ **Tell me something I don't know,'**_ Eragon bit back. The weresabre cuffed him in the head with his massive paw.

' _ **Don't be glib with your elders,'**_ Huulthraem growled out. _**'The Queen doesn't care what happens to you, but she is not the one who wishes to bring you harm...at least not much as her foe. To her you are a means for an end, as is her rule over the Sundavr Alfakyn, the Shadow Elves, but she is therefore not without reason. Reigning and ruling take a specific kind of temperament. However a great revenge burns inside of her Rider, revenge greater than anything I have ever seen, and for that she is prone to foolishness.'**_ He looked at the cabin as Eragon thought. Finally after a time he decided to venture.

' _ **Where are we currently and where is this great city you mention?'**_ At that the weresabre seemed delighted and launched forward with information.

' _ **We are sailing on the main body of The Ganga River and yes it really named Go in the Ancient Language. As to where the city is hidden…'**_ he trailed off and projected images of the river sailing a few more leagues, then veering off to a tributary slightly to the right, and ending at a massive plateau with a single pathway leading inwards form the shore.

' _ **The name of the cul'gata that it was built from is long lost, but this area of the Depth Reaches has always been known as Masram'mele. It comes from two words that mean, roughly, a physical state, a country of sorts, and merry. So essentially we're in happy land.'**_ Huulthraem seemed incredibly amused by this and made noises to that effect. Eragon felt that this place was anything but happy. However he decided to press ahead with his plan of gaining as much information as possible.

' _ **I thought all elves lives in Du Weldenvarden,'**_ and at that statement Huulthraem seemed to take on the countenance of a man standing beside a deathbed.

The weresabre sighed, _**'no, no young Rider, tis not the case. It is a tragic tale, one I witnessed, but I suppose without it I wouldn't have had so many interesting adventures at my advanced age…"**_ Huulthraem curled up. _**'Long ago, only a century or so after the elves arrived from Alalea, a young explorer discovered an entrance to the Depth Reaches. The entrance lay underneath a settlement that became the city then called Illirea and now Uru'baen. The elf in question became obsessed with exploring the reaches below and many agreed. However the elves blood ran hot then. They encountered a vicious species in these lands, beings akin to spiders, and entered into a violent series of skirmishes. These creatures, the Voranarch as they are called, broke the surface once in retaliation. They slaughtered half the elves in Illirea.'**_ Eragon sat, white in the face, with shock but wanting to know more.

' _ **The Elven Lords and Ladies as well as Arseathehl, the King at the time, blamed the elves who wished to explore for making such an enemy appear. I disagree with their reasoning, but alas. The arguments quickly grew so fierce that threats and bloodshed were inevitable. The fear was understandable in a certain context or the elves still remembered the grave mistake that had forced them to sail east to the land above us.'**_

' _ **So the elves who were explorers, a small group in comparison to the millions of Alfakyn at the time, permanently split and disappeared beneath the earth. The elves of the surface soon, within the centuries, forgot of their lost brethren and assumed them dead. They sealed any entrance to the Depth Reaches they could find. Since they were more akin to your species then they had short memories and soon forgot of their lost brethren. Those who came down here began to live of their own accord and developed their own culture. That is how they arose, the Sundavr Alfakyn, the Shadow Elves.'**_

After that Eragon began asking question after question. Huulthraem seemed pleasantly amused at this and was glad to answer as many questions as possible, such as the species that built the waystation.

' _ **They were called the Asdhur, but only one remains of their race. I know her and she is unnaturally powerful as well as old as I am. Were she to die all pure bloods of their race would be gone. As it is it matters little. They will never rise again.'**_

Eragon continued to ask about them, but Huulthraem refused to reveal much of their history close to and surrounding the time of their fall. Eragon asked more of the Shadow Elves and of their Night Queen. Huulthraem revealed much of their history and how they differed, such as using stone and roots instead of wood to build the majority of their structures, to their struggles against the Voranarch. _**'The Shadow Elves consider this their home now, just as much as the Voranarch, so they fight with ferocity. However their lack of unification up until two years ago was a constant problem. Politics is so incredibly trying between them.'**_ This was another topic he wouldn't discuss in detail. Eragon surmised that the Night Queen was a recent addition. On and on they went, Huulthraem being quite forthcoming.

' _ **You're much more talkative than the werecat the Night Queen harmed.'**_ Bitterness crept into his voice. Huulthraem expressed his exasperation.

' _ **Again, I am not allowed to speak of what she wishes only that you are in danger, but not from her. That said I am truly sorry for hurting your dragon and for Her Majesty's actions. As for my inclination to speak…I am old and have experienced great loneliness and sorrow. The years have taught me that you don't need to speak long with great words, but you should speak with those it matters to converse with. It keeps the madness at bay. Besides, good manners and decent conversation is what anyone needs.'**_

And so they talked and talked, the Ganga River being cut through at the ship sailed along at a breakneck pace. _**'If she is a queen why does she travel alone and in such a plain vessel,'**_ asked Eragon as he looked about. Huulthraem hummed.

' _ **Because she is an excellent hunter. She could not traipse around with her guard and hope to take you, no. Not even I was supposed to come, but I felt it best. As for this vessel you are correct. This is a basic elven clipper, though smaller than the surface versions. The royal galleon is fiercer and far deadlier.'**_

Before Eragon could inquire again about another topic the doors to the cabin flew open. Out stepped the Night Queen, as Eragon had been told she was called, and looked upon them both with contempt.

She wore a viridian cloak, her black hair with the single silvery streak visible under her hood in the violet light of the erisdar. Tawny, but ashen, skin seemed to be as tight as a drum on her lithe frame. She marched forward with liquid grace. Her greaved boots, gauntlets, bracers, vambraces, and pauldrons all seemed to be made of bone. Eragon made out twisted designs that were revealed to be thorny vines entwined with skeletal animals. Her pauldrons were carved in the shape of stag skulls, including the horns which gave her an even fiercer appearance. Her sleek black leather pants and corset were tight, matching hide stitching visible up the sides. Floating around her were three flaming werelights, all a fel green color.

"Enough education," she bit out. Eragon's hair stood on end at her echoing voice. "We arrive soon and I have much to ask our guest." She removed her gauntlet, revealing her sharp matte black claw-like nails. She launched forward with unnatural speed, her palm coming flat against his forehead, and he cried out in pain as a mental probe, colder than ice, began to dig its way in. He immediately pushed back with such force he knew she was surprised. Her visage tightened and her eyes seemed to glow. "Submit," she whispered and began her attack anew.

* * *

An hour later the Night Queen was clearly exasperated. Eragon felt somewhat vindicated as sweat poured down his back. Angela was absolutely beyond skilled in other things besides potion making and fortune telling. One of them happened to be fighting with her mind. She was a master mental combat tactician. Eragon had spent hours fighting her mind, Murtagh's, Saphira's, and even Solembum's at times. _**'I may not be able to control my fear or my memories, but I can ensure my mind is guarded,'**_ he thought viciously as he took one of her mental tendrils and curled it in on itself.

Huulthraem observed with both exasperation, interest, and no small amount of amusement. _**'The child is strong, yet you won't submit.'**_ His liege lord flicked his mind away and he grumbled, laying his head on his paws, eyes flickering back and forth, as he watched the struggle. During a lull he finally found his chance. He sprang up and roared, launching his own mental wave, ' _ **enough!'**_ They both blanched. Eragon looked at him while the queen merely stared at Eragon with anger.

' _ **The child is strong in his own mind when it comes to defending it. You have to meet with the council as soon as you return. You cannot keep them waiting. If you harm yourself doing this, causing a delay, or refuse to stop you could very well cause rumblings about your rule. Think, Your Majesty, think! You may be young in the surface race years, but you have always been wise. Do not abandon wisdom now!'**_ The elf woman seemed to be ready to lash out but, as if water had washed over a shore, her face iced over. She became blank. Her eyes closed and she breathed a few times before opening them and walking to the bow. Huulthraem followed her. Eragon took this time to breathe heavily and calm his mind. The mental combat was trying and causing his memories to leap forward and his fear to build.

He continued to focus on Angela's lessons though as a distraction and as a method to help him perform, but he was weakening. Any more prolonged combat and he'd be forced to give up. Just as he prepared to focus on a singular memory of flying with Saphira in the southern most reaches of the northern Spine a large nose nudged against his arm.

He opened his eyes and Huulthraem stared back. _**'She will stop…for now.'**_ He then turned and went through the open cabin doors. _**'We are almost at Neth'Anyar, rest now rider. I fear you will need even greater strength than already demonstrated.'**_ Eragon was dismayed at the statement, but took the weresabre's advice and retreated deep within his mind, allowing his fear and memories to wash over him. One by one he began reciting a small mantra to himself.

' _ **I am fearful, but I will overcome. I am fearful, but I will overcome'**_

* * *

Eragon awoke as two hands pulled him up, a blindfold going around his eyes. He felt the presence of Huulthraem in his mind. _**'Just do as they command. Do not attempt to struggle.'**_ With that Eragon went lax, letting the two pair of hands guide him to what was clearly a gangway and off the boat. His feet met pebbles and he listened around as the sound echoed off cavernous walls.

* * *

Eragon had been ensorcelled asleep. He had recognized the word, but knew that attempting to fight it would do more harm than good. Besides, he could use the rest. Before long though he was awakened. He was in an oval cage being carried by two guards. The only visible parts of them were their snow white skin on their upper arms, their fingers which ended in claw like nails, and the skin around their purple eyes. They were completely ensconced in gray hide wrappings and dark purple cloaks.

An elf woman, shrouded by a black cowl, pulled away from his cage. Eragon imagined she was the one who woke him. He was no longer bound by the black rope, but by hard stone shackles. He wondered how they were made for they seemed unnaturally well carved, almost as if molded like clay. He closed his eyes and attempted to sense the world around him. Small green crystals glowed around him, four set into the roof of his cage, blocking him. His face set in a scowl.

Then he noticed the cage wasn't made from wood, stone, or metal, but from…brambles. Thick vines, a dull muddy brown-gray, with thorns the sizes of his fingers were netted around him. He looked about. Besides his two guards and the cowled woman, at least a dozen more accompanied them. Six bore glaives, blades as black as night, and all of them bore what seemed to be crossbows. The Night Queen walked ahead with languid grace, Huulthraem next to her. Four elves, marching from each corner about her, were clearly her royal guard given their raiment.

High walls of stone advanced on either side of him, so high he couldn't see the top. The only light surrounding them were torches of purple flames and the Night Queens three fel green werelights. Just as Eragon thought he should slumber some more they began marching up hill. The steps of the warriors shifted and he realized they were on stairs. Sure enough they came to a great trapezoidal shaped door, a massive ceramic gate, easily fifty feet tall, opening as they approached. They marched through, the gates closing the moment the last of the procession was through. A plane of stone with stalagmite clusters here and there expanded before them. They were following a well-worn road, he realized, of greenish stone.

They walked to a set of stone crags rising from the floor a few hundred feet in front of them. Another set of ceramic gates, twenty feet high were in the middle of the crags. The gates opened before the queen and upon entering Eragon realized they were in a great courtyard. The natural clusters of stalagmites were now at regular intervals, forming the bases of watchtowers that speared the sky. A wall that seemed to flow from the earth spread along on either side of the crags, a thick net of brambles covering the top. Lavender color fires burned in massive braziers every few feet.

Shrouded soldiers, most wielding glaives and crossbows, immediately dropped to one knee as they passed. Siege weapons with great three bladed disks in slots, ready to be fired, were pointed outward. Eragon realized well over a couple hundred defended this wall. They marched along the green road, coming to an archway where the commander, for his cloak was green unlike the black of his compatriots, bowed and spoke with the Night Queen. After a few moments another ceramic gate opened. The gate was set in between two hexagon shaped towers, lights visible in the arrow slips. As the procession marched forward Huulthraem went to the wayside and sat. He then began to walk again beside the cage. His consciousness reached to Eragon as they passed through it and along a short path before passing under a natural arch of stalactites before stopping at the ledge of a cliff. Eragon gasped at the sight before him.

' _ **Welcome, Rider,'**_ said Huulthraem, _**'to the Shadow Elves' capital of Neth'Anyar."**_

* * *

They crossed a bridge with no railing, clearly not of elven make, and under another archway of natural stalactites that had formed over a gate between another set of hexagon shaped towers, but these ones were sharpened and chiseled. Eragon imagined they could be loosened to devastating effect on the enemy below. A massive bramble wall encircled the city. The vines were thicker than ancient oaks he had encountered in the Spine, the thorns larger than Tornac and Snowfire. Seven towers, three on each side at the periphery of the city, of gray stone rose and were cupped with rounded domes. The seventh and final in the center of the city possessed a pinnacle roof of amethyst. They walked down massive steps into the city, for it lay in a carved stone bowl in the earth. Erisdar hung from great curling vines of bramble that sprung from the earth at regular intervals and illuminated the streets. The buildings were tall, the hilt-and-gable roofs getting smaller as they ascended. Walkways of twisted black stone could be seen peeking this way and that in a crisscrossing design. The coloring was all gray and black with the ruddy brown of root wood seen at intervals. He noticed something though and that was the lack of people. He looked at Huulthraem.

' _ **She ordered the streets to the council chamber cleared. The people know we are back, but she must speak with her advisers first before addressing them.'**_

The closer they got to the city center he noticed the make of building changed. Blue and green tinted buildings of rectangular shape appeared, with some seemingly slanted to one side or shorter than they should be. The streets became more difficult for him to navigate with his eyes.

' _ **The Asdhur took pride in their mathematical abilities and as such their settlements reflect that. They were lovers of geometric shapes. This particular cul'gata was in the shape of a six pointed star, hence the confusing streets, which made sense to them due to their…equations.'**_ By his tone it seemed Huulthraem thought it ridiculous. Eragon agreed. They were soon on a main avenue, three ziggurats of a saffron colored stone rising on either side. They came to what was clearly the council chamber. An octagon shaped building of black marble; the ridging of the roof rising to the great tower which Eragon now saw had brambles crawling upwards from its base. Twin doors opened and the procession passed through.

* * *

Eragon was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor of a circular chamber at the top of the tower. They had taken a stone lift upwards, panes of lavender glass showing him glimpses of the underground city. He soon realized how small it was. It was larger than Therinsford, the great shambling village south of Carvahall, but it would have easily been dwarfed by Teirm. It was somewhat less than half of the coastal cities size. The six pointed star shape was easily picked out from above with the rest of the city beginning in a clean circle at the outskirts.

He stood slowly, looking down at the floor carved of a strange light blue wood that was almost white. He picked his head up and looked around. Eight seats, four on each side, were filled with people who were probably of importance. The seats were sharp and angular, as if made from thin pine trees that bent towards to defend themselves from loggers. One of the seats was empty. He noticed it was rather large, round, and cushioned. He had his answer when Huulthraem trotted past and curled up on it. _**'I should've guessed,'**_ he thought with some amusement.

Just as he decided to inspect the other council members, for it was clear that's what they were, music filled his ears. It was light, but definitely there. The sound of drums, pipes, horns, the sound of two gongs clashing together, and something he couldn't place. The council members stood, bowing, as twin guards stepped forth. Huulthraem quickly entered Eragon's mind and translated their words.

' _ **Announcing Her Majesty, The Dark Lady Arya, Grand Mistress of the Ghost Striders, Lady Protector of Neth'Anyar, and the Night Queen of the Shadow Elves,'**_ the soldiers banged their glaives against the floor. The Night Queen, Arya, strode in. The music hit a crescendo as she came to her throne. Eragon stared and slowly felt shock hit him like an ox. Her throne was the skull of a dragon. The lower jaw had been split open and each piece lay on either side of the throne with the teeth holding tallow candles. The remaining skull had been refashioned into a seat that was indeed fit for a queen. The wing bones rose behind her, the spaces in between draped with green silk, and she slumped into her chair. The other advisors sat themselves down more gracefully. Arya smirked.

Her echoing voice rang out, "well let's get started then."

* * *

 **If you'd like to hear the music Eragon hears when Arya is introduced go to youtube and type in "Lith My'athar" and go to the first video. At 1:00 is where you should start and at 1:10 is when Arya appears. This is what Eragon hears as she enters the council chamber.**

 **Next Chapter: Shadow Elves, Weresabres, and Arya Oh My! Well Eragon is in a bit of a pickle. Arya has finally appeared and she is definitely no friend. On top of that she's a queen of her own faction of elves! Now the question is what is going on with the others. Saphira is desperate to find Eragon and Angela feels that soon she will be forced to reveal much more of herself than she'd like, but most of all what will happen with Murtagh...**

 **End Notes: These will no longer be happening. The encyclopedia and accompanying dictionary will provide all information.**


	8. Tracking the Fear (Ch7,p2)

**Hello everyone.**

 **I'm back from my work trip which was actually refreshing in some ways. That said a few things**

 **1) I would like to apologize to all of the diligent fan fiction writers out there who have read my story, responded with reviews, and continue to support me. I am apologizing because I haven't given you the same courtesy. I have read plenty of your work and need to show you the same respect by reviewing. I will say that my days are often filled with work and nonsense that make me have time to only write, post, and create my own AU world when I can, but I need to show you guys the same respect you've shown me. I promise to double my efforts.**

 **2) ENCYCLOPEDIA - Please look at it if you need to understand anything from what a character looks like, to the weapons used, to the setting. It also has a dictionary. End Notes now will be about specific things such as music (like the youtube piece you can look up last chapter to hear what Eragon heard when Arya entered), but no longer about world wide content**

 **3) This is the second part of Chapter 7. It's in two parts because both sets of events are happening simultaneously. Eragon arriving at Neth'Anyar plus the first half of chapter 8 coincide chronologically with what happens below.**

 **4) I have a feeling I may be too slow paced and would like to hear opinions in reviews about that. I am still on track to have things pick up by Chapters 10, 11, and onward, but still worry about it. Please let me know.**

* * *

Her wing was in intense pain, her whole left side throbbing. _**'That mangy cat will pay for this, the elf woman too.'**_ Saphira shifted slightly, growling out in pain. As she continued to slowly stand she sniffed the air. A thick and foul scent, like fetid meat and hot metal, filled her nostrils. She also heard skittering on the rocks on the ledge above. Chittering and clacking added to the skittering. "Saphira," whispered a voice. Angela limped towards her. She growled at the herbalist. Angela stopped, but then continued to walk forth slightly.

"Voranarch, many of them, are combing the plateau above. We must leave, fast, but we won't have time." She knelt and withdrew two glass circular vials. Removing the corks she poured a sparkling red powder into a viscous clear liquid. It began to bubble and fizz. "This foul elixir will turn them back, but dragon fire will add to it. Please Saphira, Murtagh and Solembum are out of commission." Saphira observed her, angry at their predicament, and blaming Angela somewhat. However the idea of letting puny spiders devour her was not appealing. The partner-of-her-heart-and-mind Eragon was captured by that quick-like-shadow elf and the mangy cat. Saphira growled low and breathed hot air at Angela, denoting her agreement.

Quick as a flash Angela chucked her vial. "As soon as it cracks against the wall, bathe the section in flame." Sure enough they heard the tinkling and Saphira hauled herself up with a mighty heave, leaning heavily on her right side, roaring, and unleashing a torrent of flame. She poured into it all of her great rage and sorrow at Eragon being gone. Sure enough a wall of flames, more smoke-like in formation than flame, sprung up. It spread like the noxious chlorine had. Screeching filled their ears and the smell of charred flesh filled their nostrils. Angela patted her on the chest.

"Quickly, more will come." They wandered over to Murtagh. Angela took Tinkledeath and poked at the rope binding him and Solembum. Thankfully it cut straight through it. Angela began mixing a tonic and poured it down their throats. Both started awake as they came to. Murtagh looked up and around, eyes wide.

Solembum limped off him, crawling to Angela, shaking, and crawled up against her. She tucked him next to her and pet him. Murtagh leapt up. Anger rolled off him in palpable waves. He swung his hand about, "what happened!"

Angela observed him calmly before relaying that the spell was unlike any she had seen, but that the symbol, the six pointed oddly shaped star, was known to her. "It's a seal of the people who built this place and used to manipulate ley lines." Murtagh snorted.

"And what exactly is a ley line," his face was set in a scowl and his hands gripped his words pommel. Angela waved her hand about.

"Magic flows like a river in certain places, making it easier to tap into it, and these are called ley lines. That symbol the elf used let her tap right into them therefore increasing her spells power. If she hadn't then the wave caused by the second ringing of the bell would've incapacitated her." At that she picked up the bell, making sure to hold its tongue, and secured it in her bandolier.

Saphira watched all of this with annoyance. They should be heading out to find Eragon she thought. Angela looked off down the dark river for a while before approaching Murtagh. As she did so Saphira projected to them. _**'Figure out your differences and fast. We need to make up much ground. That elf has taken Eragon! I can smell his scent mixed in with two I don't know!'**_ Neither responded.

Murtagh looked around wondering where the horses were while a vein in his temple throbbed. Angela tentatively reached out, but he smacked her hand away. She observed him, calmly, before smiling softly. "You're afraid." He looked at her, an argument rising to his lips, but stopped as he looked at her. Her white shawl was dirty and torn, her red jacket too. The bandolier was scuffed and her pants needed to be resewn. Some of her hair was signed and she had a nasty bruise on her right cheek. Yet despite this she looked at him with such kindness he was reminded of the first time she had sat him down and spoken of the past…

* * *

 _Eragon and Saphira had been gone for a fortnight. The autumn brought the best chance to hunt large game as migrations began and bulking for the winter occurred. Murtagh sanded the finished railing of the veranda, going over it with a fine eye. Solembum lay lounging in the fall sun, having early caught rodents hiding in leaf piles. Angela came walking up the steps, her arms laden with baskets full of various plants and fungi. She set them down._

" _Plenty of goods for the next few weeks. That greenhouse was a marvelous addition, thank you." She motioned to the long rectangular building. It was an oak frame, but dragon fired panes of glass covered most of it. The erisdar gave light and the constantly boiling cauldrons of water, fed by a water wheel in the pond next to their home, ensured a consistent amount of humid air. Murtagh grunted in acknowledgement. Angela observed him._

 _His back muscles were strained, but not just from sanding. His jaw was set, the muscles contracting. He was grinding his teeth. She sighed and went to make tea. Returning she pulled at his arm. He looked up and she indicated the chairs besides the door, a stone table carved with swirling patterns from Saphira licking the hot stone. "Sit." It was an order not a request._

 _Knowing not to argue, but still annoyed, he set the sanding stone down and sat. He stared out in the distance, hoping he'd just have to drink the tea, and then go back to working on the house. However it seemed that Angela had different plans. "So, how are you." She drew out the are and smiled toothily. Murtagh gave her a deadpan look. He was in no mood. Angela merely continued on and on about how he seemed upset, always brooding, angry, and how he couldn't bottle it up inside. "…and if these are issues about you and your father you should know that," Angela stopped at the sound of Murtagh's clay mug shattering. She looked at him bewildered._

 _His eyes were wide, his whole body tense, and the veins in his neck popped out. He slowly turned and looked at her. Normally she'd feel worried, but she knew that he'd be unable to stop her if she invaded his mind. She looked straight back at him._

" _You know." She cocked her head to the side slightly, smirking._

" _Know that you're Morzan's son? Yes, I've known of you for a rather long time. I even met your father and as fate would have it…your mother."_

* * *

Murtagh shook himself out of his reverie and breathed as Angela had taught him. Eragon had learned this easier than him, but needed it less. Murtagh's fear was massive and all encompassing. Despite their ability to escape and survive he still was full of fear. Even now he feared their ability to survive. How could they take down Galbatorix after so many years of him honing his power? They didn't even know how he increased his power. _**'How can we,'**_ and he was stopped by a powerful swipe across his midsection. Murtagh was knocked flat down by Saphira's massive tail. He got up, rage boiling over. _**'What was that for!?'**_

Saphira got right in his face, teeth gritted, and growled. _**'I could hear your thoughts. You were so uncontrolled they were pouring out like a river. Now is not time to think of the traitor king. We must find Eragon!'**_ Murtagh huffed and turned away. Saphira stalked off being able to tell that he was in no mood.

"Where is Angela," he wondered aloud after a short while. He looked around and found that his three companions had gathered a ways away. They were looking down at the ground. He trotted over to them. "What in the world are yo…" he trailed off and looked down. The liter was in pieces, not irreparable, their goods scattered about, but he felt his heart be pierced by sorrow. Tornac and Snowfire lay dead on top of one another.

* * *

Solembum had laid down, letting out a soft meow directed to the two graves. He had grown to appreciate them, if not enjoy the rare moments of warmth in the summer when he'd lounge on their backs. Saphira had dug two depressions in one swoop. Murtagh had cut of their tail hair, binding it together in a braid. "I want something to remember them by," he had told a stricken Angela.

"The charring indicates they were burned, but their broken necks and limbs speak to the concussive force. The blast's physical force killed them, not the fire, but I doubt they felt a thing." Angela's words were of little comfort. The four of them observed the horses graves, on the bank of a dark river, only light coming from the few werelights floating above them. After a few minutes of silence, where Murtagh's downturned face hid his wet eyes, Angela piped up.

"We need to be getting on. Solembum, shift, help me assemble the catamaran. Saphira bring all the supplies together. Murtagh," she looked at him and he slowly looked up at her. She smiled sadly, "come now. We must be going. Voranarch will soon be back." He nodded, on autopilot.

As they gathered items and prepared to travel a thought occurred to Murtagh, "Angela, how do we know where to go?" She smiled, first time she was displaying happiness in a while.

"I told you I know these lands. I know the Depth Reaches." She pointed downstream. "The elf's magic left traces for us to follow. I can detect it decently enough. Downstream is where we must go.

Soon enough the catamaran was in the water. The liter had been disassembled and stowed. It added no great weight and the catamaran bobbed lazily. Saphira floated above. The water rippled with the beats of her wings. Solembum sat in human form on her back. Murtagh clambered aboard and he and Angela pushed off from the worn stone slab pier. Angela began to hum a tune, the same tune of the Urgal traveling song she had sung when leaving their home, but this time Murtagh didn't smile as he had before.

* * *

Their pace was slow, Saphira flying closely alongside, all of them frustrated. They had taken to silence, brooding, their anger rolling off in waves. Angela had tried to brighten the mood, but eventually even her cheeriness had worn away. Soon however she took in a deep breath and sighed. Murtagh turned to her as she pointed ahead, "there." He narrowed his eyes and looked ahead.

"I see nothing," he said derisively. She snorted and rolled her eyes.

"If you'd actually look then you would see. There's a post mark. I wonder what it's from or who made it." He didn't respond and merely hardened his expression and picked up a poll to pull them closer to shore. As they came closer an entrance to a cave became visible. Angela cast a rope around a three sided triangular rock, clearly the post mark she had seen, that stuck straight up from the water, five other identical marks an equal distance from it. They jumped ashore.

"You, Solembum, and I can go." Saphira grumbled, but she knew she wouldn't fit through the small opening that lay a few feet from the shore. She set the things she carried down and looked on either side of her. The rocks would keep her hidden well enough. Murtagh picked up the archaic shield and kept a firm grasp on his sword. He elected to leave Zar'roc behind.

Angela tightened her bandolier and then directed them through the opening. They descended down a steep tunnel into the earth. Angela seemed wary, but relaxed. Murtagh was questioning the judgement of this by each passing minute. Soon they came to a gate of cast iron bars. Angela held up a hand. "Stop," she ordered. Her voice had taken on a tone of wariness. She unsheathed Tinkledeath and her poniard, eyes darting about narrowly, before sucking in a breath. "No," and rushed forward.

"Angela, wait, stop," cried out Murtagh as she dropped in front of a corpse. The body had long decayed, but it was covered in a mound of webbing. Murtagh's hair stood on end. He conjured a red werelight and looked about as disgust rose inside of him. The whole entryway was covered in thick webbing, evidence of a great battle clear as a mid-spring day. Angela kept muttering protestations and bewilderments. "Angela, we must leave, come on." Murtagh tugged at her. Solembum pawed at her billowing black pants.

' _ **Angela…we must go now. Great danger lies here.'**_ She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, before launching herself upward.

"We must put distance between ourselves and here before," she was cut off by a great roar. They all rushed out. Saphira was in trouble. As they reached the entrance they saw what was wrong. Saphira's wings were pinpricked by arrows yet she shielded the catamaran and their other things. The three of them looked past her and gasped, Solembum hissing, as the opposite shore was alight with torches. Twenty some odd Urgals with black bows launched another wave of arrows.

"Murtagh! Shoot them from here. I'll handle this on the other side." Angela withdrew a box from the catamaran, her huthvir, and quickly assembled it as he launched arrow after arrow. The urgals took shelter behind huge walls of sharpened logs with cured hides covering the front where various designs. "Mantlets, so only fire when you can see them and are sure of a hit," the herbalist yelled at Murtagh as he fired off another round. Two urgals fell to his bow. She jumped onto Saphira who took off with a mighty heave.

Within a few moments she landed and blasted out a torrent of fire as Angela spun to the ground and began lashing out. Her blades darted this way and that like riled hornets. Within moments the urgals had all fallen either to flame, blade, or arrow. As Angela shoved one end with particular viciousness into the throat of one ball-headed club wielding warrior she nodded. "And that's that," she spat out.

* * *

They hauled their things to the other shore, steering the catamaran across the short way, and searched their fallen foes. Ball-headed warclubs, pikes that were clearly human in make, the mantlets, and other such items gave them few clues. However they came across one urgal who was clearly a kull, his throat slashed wide open. Angela inspected the too small breastplate on his chest and tapped at it. She waved Murtagh over and pointed. "Look at the design," and as he did his eyes widened. Galbatorix's flame sigil was drawn crudely right on the breastplate.

They buried the urgals, burning their goods using the fierce heat from Saphira's flames, and regrouped around the burning pile of items. Murtagh turned away from the acrid smoke and bit into a piece of venison jerky. "What do you think is going on," he wondered aloud to Angela. She let out a sound of wonderment, clearly as confused as he was, before spouting her thoughts.

' _ **It seems to me the urgals are in league with Galbatorix still, after the three years.'**_ Saphira's voice was relatively calm, but her voice gave way to emotions of anxiousness. She wished to be on the way. However Angela shook her head no.

"I doubt they'd be in league and when I looked at them I used my mind to touch theirs. They were shielded, but from afar. The urgals acted like they were on autopilot in a way. They merely went through the motions. They lacked free will. They were merely meat puppets sent to do their masters will." Murtagh rubbed his chin.

"Voranarch," he queried and Angela cocked her head before slowly shaking it no. He frowned.

"The Voranarch," she said, "are not adverse to such tactics, but their influence would be obvious. No, this was something even more sinister than those foul creatures. I fear that their minds were ensnared by a being far more powerful than we know." She pulled out her pipe and stuffed it with cardus weed before striking a piece of flint to it. "I fear that Saphira's point about Galbatorix is still true, but if it is that means that he knows now of these underground lands and if he does then…" She stood and nodded.

"Care on telling me what you plan," asked Murtagh derisively. She motioned into the darkness.

"The magic can still be detected down a ways. We should follow it where the trail is strong. I know that down this way we're probable to come across a place I've heard of if only in legend. A place where the ground grows moist, like the field where we fled the chlorine gas, and great mushrooms grow taller than the eye can see. It's known in the common tongue as Zen-Spore. The beings who long ago ruled here called it Sancya'u Pok which roughly translated to a peaceful fungus lake." Angela said all of this in a conversational tone but her eyes kept themselves on Murtagh's hand which gripped his sword so tight the leather could be heard to shift.

Before he could say anything Saphira smacked her tail on the ground. _**'Enough of this. We either leave together now or I follow the trail alone.'**_

* * *

' _ **Stupid humans. Always causing troubles. And that mangy beast! He will learn the consequences of striking at me.'**_ Saphira glided over the river bank, darting back and forth as the catamaran made its way down. Three days had gone by, three! _**'And no sign of Eragon,'**_ thought Saphira as she felt her heart sink again. She snapped at the air after a moment, remembering her own words to her frightened companion. _**'I will not despair. I will find the Little One and pin him to me. Always he goes getting in trouble.'**_ She looked down as she swung over again. Murtagh had a hollowed look on his face. _**'And that one…that one I must now keep an eye on too. Angela with tricks and now he with fear.'**_

Saphira sighed as she thought of the words Angela had said to Murtagh that day…

* * *

" _Again," ordered Angela as Murtagh pulled back into himself. He was coated in sweat and his back was strained as if he exerted under a great beam of stone. He grit his teeth as he stared up at the herbalist. She stared at him with a blank expression. "Again, Murtagh," she said as she fanned herself with a canvas fan._

" _I can't," he growled out._

" _You can. Let down the iron bars around your mind." Saphira sat on her hind legs, paws up against her like a dog as she cocked her head to the side. It seemed Murtagh was attempting the mental exercises that Eragon did weekly. He wasn't doing well._

" _I can't," he growled again. Angela observed him neutrally before standing. She turned and walked to the precipice of the cliff they practiced on. Murtagh took deep breaths, one after the other._

" _Saphira," said Angela with her mind, "I must discuss something personal with Murtagh. His fear is grounded in something intrinsic to his being. He should be able to discuss it without fear of others opinions."…_

* * *

Saphira wondered to herself, _ **'If Murtagh has still not mastered this fear of his…will he be turned from friend and ally to an enemy, to a foe.'**_

Murtagh reached over the side of the boat to swish his fingertips in the water. Before he did so Solembum pawed at his wrist. _**'Many creatures lurk in these waters, most of them not friendly.'**_ Murtagh immediately pulled his hand back. He looked up as Angela whittled away at a wooden block. The shape hadn't given way to an obvious form yet.

' _ **She whittles away at wood a lot.'**_ Her knife moved quickly with deft movements and swift strokes. The days had been hard on them. They stopped periodically, allowing her to sense the earth.

"I may not be able to reach for magic, but I sure can sense it" she had told him when he snippily asked if she knew where they were going or how far they had to travel still. Murtagh, chastened, hadn't responded. On the fifth day of traveling down the river Angela pointed at a murky light in the distance. "Saphira," she said in a low voice, "fly high and report back." The azure dragon wordlessly complied, her wings beating in great strokes as she rose above them into the darkness.

"Are we at this mushroom lake you spoke of," asked Murtagh. Angela shook her head no, curls bouncing everywhere and told him.

"It's still a good day and half away if memory serves me well. We could have reached a distant outcropping of spores though." Saphira returned.

' _ **It's an island. There are vents of steam rising from it. I don't smell poison gas, but I can smell fungus.'**_ Angela nodded and she and Murtagh directed the catamaran to increase speed. Soon they stood on a black sand shore, chartreuse lichen spread on top of the rocky outcropping. Water rushed on either side of them. As they moved further inland they encountered thin trees that were only a few feet taller than Murtagh. The blue-white wood was cast in an odd light from the glowing fungus. The leaves were ovaline and a dusky white, almost chalklike. Murtagh ran his fingers over them.

"What are these trees," he asked. Angela smiled softly, the first genuine display of happiness from her in a while.

"These are Nightfoil trees. Yes," she said upon seeing the look on his face, "the very same that create a tea that weakens the barrier between our world and the dream realm." Murtagh continued to inspect the trees and pointed out the thin veins of very light purple he saw. Angela nodded again and reminded him of how the Nightfoil tea was milky lavender.

' _ **We should camp here for the night. The rushing water adds protection.'**_ Solembum's hair stood on end and he sniffed at the air. Murtagh, upon seeing this, peered out into the distance with his eyes narrowed.

"What is it," he wondered aloud. Angela peered out too, climbing up onto Saphira's back as the dragon stared into the distance. Murtagh suddenly felt a chill come over him and a sickly sweet smell came over him. "Rotting flesh," he told the others. Angela nodded as Saphira and Solembum hissed. "You spoke of flesh puppets in the past. You didn't mention the dead." The warrior knocked an arrow to his composite longbow.

"Yes, the Voranarch are skilled at manipulating bodies and that includes dead ones." Solembum growled, like a cat fighting over territory.

' _ **We are being surrounded,'**_ his tail twitched and he got low to the ground. Murtagh watched him with interest, the past few days anger forgotten, as the werecat expressed what was more worry than normal for him. He looked to Angela who shrugged.

"Werecats are particularly sensitive to the undead. They are rarely upset by magic, but when used to warp the natural circle of life…" the herbalist gestured. Suddenly the angry feline yelped and darted away as Saphira reared up and roared. A massive torrent of fire followed. The opposite bank was only a few feet away so soon it was lit with sapphire flames. The three others stepped back as they heard ear splitting cries and watched as twisted and warped shapes began to sizzle in the fire storm.

' _ **Let all who oppose me despair for I am Saphira, Daughter of the Wind and Flame! None shall stand in the way of my quest.'**_ As her mental cry faded away Angela picked at her ears before turning to their angry friend.

"Now…that was a tad dramatic."

* * *

"So they can raise the dead," stated Murtagh as Angela finished the explanation of manipulating the dead. She had looked ill through the whole thing.

"Yes, essentially, but not in the way as human necromancers can which is why it's deadlier when facing their raised soldiers. They move quicker due to the silk threads." He nodded. They stared into the fire as Saphira continued to sniff the air and growl lightly at any noise or scent. Solembum was at the edge of the camp, sniffing the water.

' _ **We will be surrounded again and soon. We can sail, but they're likely to launch attacks from shore if they have bows and spears.'**_ Solembum's words made them even more uneasy. Murtagh looked around. His eyes alighted on the vents.

"What about those," he pointed at the steam coming from the thin cracks. Angela looked at them and shrugged.

"What about them," she asked. He motioned to the fumes.

"We could maybe use them to cover our tracks. Saphira could increase their size with her flames maybe, or her own smoke, and we could leave under the cover of them." Angela shook her head.

"How would she increase their size without kindling? On top of that if she even did do as you suggest they'd figure it out most likely and just follow us down the river."

Murtagh huffed. "At least I'm thinking of something." Saphira looked back and forth at them and rolled her eyes as she came to the conclusion that they wouldn't be able to agree on an escape.

' _ **Angela,'**_ asked the dragon, _**'the Voranarch are following us correct?'**_ The herbalist nodded without looking at her. _**'Then why don't I just fly above and burn them. They may be many, but my fire is greater than them.'**_ Angela again shook her head no.

' _ **The Voranarch would shoot webs and nets up at you. You could only fly so high. They have a greater ability to see by sensing sound which you create plenty of.'**_ She surprised Saphira by answering her directly in her mind as it denied Murtagh and even Solembum her response. Her anger dissipated as she observed her companion. Her face was drawn and her color peaky. Even Angela's curls seemed less bouncy. She sniffed her. Saphira smelled the usual scents she associated with her, but something else was there. It was something she associated with Saphira. It was the scent of fear.

They slept restlessly, the chittering of the many legged arachnids becoming clearer as the night went on. "Broodlings, mainly, but the heavy steps are probably larger ones," Angela explained the next morning. Even Saphira decided not to ask and she had learned over three years to learn what her prey was first to determine if it actually was prey.

Just as Murtagh wished to ask for a discussion on how they should get out of their predicament a massive bolt lodged itself into the thin rocky shore. He shouted and leapt back. He drew his sword and pulled up his shield as Angela whirled her huthvir around to her front. Saphira sprang forward, breathing fire on the thick white strand of webbing that stuck to the end of the massive head. Nothing happened to it.

"They're resistant!" Angela spun and began gathering things to put in the catamaran. Solembum began clawing at the strings with Saphira, but quickly became entangled by the threads he cut. A massive crack sounded again as a second bolt lodged itself. Soon enough the creak could be heard of a makeshift bridge being hauled into the air as the bolts and their web strands were used to move it up and over.

Before they could do anything Saphira used her tongue to shape her fire into a massive orb. She launched it forward and watched with satisfaction as it blasted straight through the bridge. However a sharp buzz filled the air and Angela practically screeched. "They're sending in drones! They fly!" Murtagh's stomach churned at the idea of an eight eyed spider with wings.

Before the buzz could get any louder Saphira bathed the air above them with a sheet of flame. Shapeless carcasses, all alight, came crashing down. Some fell into open vents as others set the Nightfoil trees on fire. Immediately a thick purple smoke sprang up. Angela grabbed Murtagh and ordered Solembum into the catamaran. "Fly, Saphira, fly. Get away from the fumes!" The great azure dragon did as she was told for just as with the chlorine Angela seemed even more worried about gas than creatures.

As they pulled away from shore Murtagh stood on his knees, nocking an arrow, but suddenly found his airways filled with a noxious vapor. He dropped the arrow, falling back, and seized his throat. Angela fit a waterskin to his throat and squeezed ice cold river water down his throat as Solembum pushed their vessels polls in his naked human form. Soon the unusually strong current that hadn't been there before carried them down stream.

They rushed along for an inordinate amount of time, focusing on just putting as much distance between themselves and the Voranarch as possible. Murtagh recovered from the smoke inhalation slowly, but set about making sure all of their supplies were accounted for. They were lucky they had barely unpacked a thing. Saphira routinely swooped low to keep a good eye on all of them. None of them could tell when day passed into night or night into day. They were fatigued, grime covered, and Angela then gave the worst news possible.

"I have lost the magical track...and we are off course and nowhere near the fungus lake." Saphira roared. She cast out her mind in all directions, firing flame burst after flame burst to illuminate their surroundings as her companions protested and demanded she cease and desist, but there was no consoling her.

' _ **Eragon! Where are you!?'**_

* * *

 **Next Chapter: What's Eragon been up to the past few days and will Saphira see him anytime soon? Next we see just how Eragon has been getting on and the city of Neth'Anyar welcomes some guests that arrive with a bang...and a lot of blood.**


	9. The Past, Present, and Future

**I'M BAAAAAAAACK. Hello everyone and my deepest apologies for the very long delay. Basically work is crazy insane due to the fact that it's an election year and well...yeah I'm sure you're all sick of it too. Try living it. So I can now promise more chapters, regular updates, new encyclopedia entries (READ THE ENCYCLOPEDIA. I LIKE TO WORLD BUILD. THERE IS STUFF YOU WON'T KNOW IF YOU DON'T READ IT), et cetera. So a quick re-cap.**

 **Eragon is captured, the others are god knows where, and that's really about it. I promise more thorough explanations later.**

* * *

Eragon sighed as he sat out in the courtyard garden of the house of Sri'Hisvran. He had no knowledge as to her appearance or who she was, but Huulthraem routinely came by and even spent the night. Eragon had been under house arrest for a few days now and he currently saw no end to it. He took his time to meditate, work out, and observe. He had quickly realized that as long as he didn't try to escape he was relatively free to act as he wished.

The council meeting had actually ended up being quite boring. Huulthraem translated for him, but the details were surprisingly mundane until it came time to discuss Eragon. It had been decided he'd remain under house arrest for the time being due to the threat of the Voranarch. They had launched a swarm, a large unmitigated attack, against the Shadow Elves. Queen Arya had set about focusing on the current threat.

Eragon had been directed to this house, an elegant one floor square compound with a courtyard that had quickly become his haunt. Low platforms of stone held sumptuous pillows and bedding of dusky orange and turquoise throughout. Elegant shell shaped lanterns held glowing orbs of white light. He was fed rich food that mainly consisted of seafood, much to his surprise. During one of his periodic visits Huulthraem explained the cuisine, _**'The vast underground lakes, rivers, streams, and seas,'**_ he had nodded at Eragon's incredulous look, _**'yes seas, they give us a vast collection of flora and fauna to harvest. Think of it this way. The elves of Du Weldenvarden are elves of air and fire for they bonded with the dragons. The Shadow Elves are of water and earth, of stone.'**_

Huulthraem hadn't explained when Eragon asked about his hosts name, the decorations, primarily the colors, or the fact that he hadn't seen her just yet.

On the fifth day of his captivity he was picking at the two thick stone bracelets with tiny green shards adorning his wrist to prevent him using magic. He had finally abandoned himself to his melancholy. He missed Saphira. He even missed the others and all of their bickering. He was alone. So in the courtyard he sat in a fine high collared black tunic with sleeves that only went to his biceps, lined with a color one servant called saffron. Form fitting gray hide pants and matching boots with cabochons of amber. He sighed for the umpteenth time that day. _**'I hate this.'**_

' _ **Hence why I have come,'**_ answered the majestic voice he had become used to invading his mind. Huulthraem bound down the small steps leading into the courtyard. He passed one of the pale blue trees, Nightfoil Eragon had learned, that decorated it and sat next to the rider.

' _ **You miss her,'**_ said the old feline with a kind voice. Eragon looked away and nodded. He did miss Saphira and looked forward to being back with her again soon.

' _ **I'm sorry Her Majesty has done this, which I know I've said before, but it bares repeating.'**_ Eragon shrugged.

' _ **I'm pretty weak. It's not like I could escape.'**_ Huulthraem cuffed him, which he did at least five or six times a day, and growled.

' _ **You are not weak. Angela taught you how to survive, but raw strength is something else entirely.'**_ Again the old cat mentioned Eragon's erstwhile companion and he finally decided to inquire.

' _ **You've mentioned Angela as if you know her, but it wouldn't surprise me if you did.'**_ Huulthraem gave a booming laugh over the mental link and made a noise in his throat and licked a paw.

' _ **I was wondering when you'd ask. I do, as a matter of fact, know Angela, but not as well as you'd think. I have the privilege of knowing one who knows her quite a bit. Angela is an odd duck, but I imagine that's a result of her parentage.'**_ Before Eragon could ask two guards came before them and bowed. In a string of elvish they explained something to the weresabre. He nodded, stretched, yawned, and ordered Eragon to come with him. They marched to the central atrium where a floor of jade and malachite tiles depicted a great city rising from the sands. What surprised Eragon though were the black stone trunks currently being unloaded from a cart parked outside. A carriage of sorts, simple but elegant, stood in front of it and an attendant opened the door.

Eragon sucked in a breath as a woman emerged from it. Her skin was pale, as white as the moon. Her hair was in thick ringlets that looked to be made of ink, but what were most striking were her eyes. They were milky white. She was blind. However what Eragon couldn't get over was the fact that she possessed three arms on each side and was currently walking towards him with all six arms outstretched.

"As the dwarves say, Deruundan, Rider Eragon. You as well Huulthraem." The weresabre bowed his head and turned to Eragon, glee evident in his voice as he introduced the woman.

' _ **This, my dear boy, is your hostess. Sri'Hisvran.'**_ The woman smiled toothily, revealing even white teeth. Before Eragon could ask more Huulthraem nudged him inside.

* * *

Eragon was directed into a room he had never been in. The sliding rootwood doors, set with panes of underground sea glass, were open to look into the courtyard Eragon frequented. The gray sand held a variety of large quartz rocks draped with lichen and moss on top of the three Nightfoil trees. _**'A stone garden,'**_ Huulthraem had told him it was called, _**'when the Sundavar Alfakyn first settled here they missed the gardens of the surface world and over time created their own.'**_

The room possessed a table with an octagonal top of a strong black wood inlaid with elegant rose gold scrollwork. He recognized the runes as being the same writing on Val'synra's case. The runes branched out at the tips to give way to a panorama seen of what looked like twisting rectangular vines that seemed to sway. Around the vines were carvings of different sea animals Eragon had become familiar with due to his meals during captivity. The legs of the table were four large columns of a tangerine coral. Stools of square stone with small rectangular backs and bowl like centers sat at each side of the octagonal table with a particularly large one for Huulthraem.

Sri'Hisvran entered with the weresabre at her heels. She needed no help in navigating, even looking at Eragon with her unseeing eyes in such a way that Eragon wondered if she were actually blind.

"Oh I am indeed blind my dear boy." She smiled and a sense of calm seemed to pervade him. Huulthraem harrumphed as he bound into his seat.

' _ **Stop using your mind techniques on the boy Soothsayer.'**_ He slapped a paw on the table as Sri'Hisvran sat at the head, using her middle arms to rearrange her shawl. Elven servants came forth and set out the dishes with a flourish before serving drinks and retreating to the wall. Paua shell bowls with handles of brass held both cavern lobster bisque and salted kelp stew. Plates of carved jade held caramelized scallops, crab cakes with seal milk butter sauce, and mushrooms stuffed with krill. Entire plates of beaten brass in the shapes of curled up dragons held selections of raw oysters, with spicy underground chili pepper sauce Eragon had found to be quite potent, or seal steaks. Rootwood bowls of underground fish stew rounded out the selections.

Eragon's sea glass goblet was filled with black tideberry wine. Before he could ask questions Sri'Hisvran told him to eat and wait for questions later. He couldn't bring himself to deny the strange woman though he wished to know more. He busied himself by gorging himself on bisque and crab cakes, enjoying a stuffed mushroom here and there, while downing goblets of wine and ice water.

'A fine meal, but I always look forward to dessert,' stated Huulthraem as he finished off another seal steak he had dumped butter on.

"What's for dessert," asked Eragon, sensing an in. Huulthraem looked at Sri'Hisvran as she used one arm to bring her napkin to her lips before saying.

"I routinely present dessert that is of my people's cuisine, the Asdhur, and Huulthraem always enjoys the confectionaries we create. Or I if I am being correct as I am the only one left of my kind." Eragon wasn't sure how to react.

'To be the last of one's kind…' He looked at Huulthraem as he lapped at a saucer of wine and wondered the same.

Soon enough the servants presented the desserts and he saw what the feline had meant. Little cakes, sand colored, cut into a shape Huulthraem had told him was called a parallelogram were drizzled with honey. A clay square container holding what seemed to be butter was set down as well. Then, to Eragon's shock, raspberry mead was placed in large mugs carved from horn. Sri'Hisvran smiled. A clear glass jug of a thick russet colored substance more like heavy cream used for baking was also set down.

"Getting things from the surface world is easier for me." She then gestured for him to try the cakes. Huulthraem was already slathering the dark yellow condiment on a rather large one baked just for him. Eragon smiled and nibbled one, immediately enjoying the taste.

"What is this,' he asked his hostess.

"Tis a cake made from cashew flour, a small amount of sugar and saffron, dried grapes, clarified butter, and orange peel garnishing. I call them surface cakes now." She giggled as Huulthraem scowled at her. "Huulthraem hates that name, but none of the ingredients are available in the Depth Reaches."

Eragon continued to enjoy his dessert, but became increasingly frustrated at the lack of conversation. In particular he wanted to know more about the elven queen, the shadow elves, and just what exactly they wanted him for. He jerked as two ice cold hands were placed on his forearm. He turned and looked at Sri'Hisvran. She smiled.

"Listen to me, Eragon, I understand that you are angered and I can't promise to tell you all for even I don't have all of the answers, but come to the garden once we are done here and I promise to help you in the way that I know best." She then turned back to her dessert and spoke no more. Eragon was come over with the feeling that he shouldn't inquire as to more. He finished his dessert in silence and in deep thought.

Sri'Hisvran had stood with a flourish, putting a hand out for Eragon to take. She brought him to the courtyard and produced a small obsidian dagger from within the folds of her dress. He tensed, but she merely pricked one of her many fingers, flipping the blade around with expert skill. She flicked her blood onto the sand and Eragon watched with fascination as the ground began to bubble like boiling water. A patch of ivory tiles with a design of a ten petal flower in the shape of a cross appeared. "Come," she ordered smiling.

She took him to the center of the cross and ordered him to sit. He crossed his legs and sat. "And we won't be needing those," she said with her back turned and waved her hand. Eragon's jaw dropped as the shackles crumbled into dust.

' _ **She did magic without using the ancient language!'**_ Immediately he heard the chuff of the old weresabre as he came to lounge on the inner veranda.

' _ **There are plenty of other ways of doing magic you know,'**_ Huulthraem stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Everyone here save for Huulthraem, our guest, and I no longer exist," bellowed the six-armed woman. Immediately the guards pulled their hoods over their heads and covered their faces in masks. The servant's similarly cowled themselves so that only a thin black veil remained where their eyes were mere pinpricks. She then turned to Eragon. She held a celadon porcelain mug in the shape of an owl. It was the same shape of the mugs Angela used.

As she walked towards him, one of Sri'Hisvran's many arms plucked leaves from a Nightfoil tree and dropped them in a mug. She sat cross legged across from him.

"I am indeed blind Eragon, but I can see in other ways. I am the last of my kind, but I am not without note for other reasons. I was once called The Soothsayer and within this mug is the condensed fumes of the vents I used to assist me in seeing. Also there is Nightfoil which I have learned from Huulthraem you are familiar with, but most of all there is my blood." He blanched and she held up a hand. "This potent mixture will do for you what no other can. It will explain."

Eragon merely stared at her. She was grim faced, but suddenly the same sense of calm as before pervaded him and he felt compelled to drink the potion. "What will it explain to me," he asked in a hoarse whisper. It was at his question that the so called Soothsayer smiled.

"What was, what is, and what may yet come to be." She picked up his hand, placed the mug in it, and pushed it upwards to his lips. He drank the scalding brew tasting honey, blood, the earth, and a salty sweet taste he hadn't known before…

* * *

 _Eragon was free falling. Through shadows and then suddenly the darkness split with a thousand flames and he fell through a colored realm of bright pin pricks. Orbs of light swirling in great clouds of color. He seemed to be rushing towards a sphere of color. Greens, browns, reds, white, and a great deal of blues hurtled towards him, yet he didn't feel afraid._

' _ **The world!'**_ _He couldn't believe it. The world was round, like a multicolored marble, and he flew over mountains and fields, whole rivers and forests rushing past, but he soon came upon a dark scene. He alighted upon a great square pillar and gasped as he beheld the scene before him_

 _Four great streams of lava poured from a massive ziggurat crafted of trapezoids. The poured from openings carved in screaming maws of some wicked looking skull. A skull he realized that wasn't unlike the erisdar of the Shadow Elves. A great avenue of stone ran directly from the ziggurat, pillars rising on either side of it just like the one he stood on._ _ **'A city…'**_ _he thought as he beheld one of the most terrifying yet magnificent creations before him. Wicked buildings with barbs and grotesque features rose from the ground. Great forges could be seen spewing smoke into the sky and cackling rooftops of crystal blazed with a fierce light. Despite the beauty the city was clearly a place of malevolence._

' _ **What is this place,'**_ _he thought as he looked about. The sharp crack of a whip met his ears and he looked below at the avenue. "No!"_

 _A dragon in chains was being whipped by a cruel taskmaster as it crawled up the avenue, dragging a massive timber bed of black stone. The task master, covered in black cloth and mail, whipped it again. The dragon groaned. The taskmaster seemed unsatisfied and yelled out in a guttural voice, speaking a harsh language Eragon couldn't place. Suddenly a regiment of slaves ran forth in their sack cloth garments and chains. Eragon's eyes became even wider as he beheld them._

" _Asdhur," he whispered to himself. Indeed the pale beings, some sickly thin, were six armed and many had inky black hair. The taskmaster was joined by guards and they all began whipping the dragon and slaves as they attempted to help the dragon with its load._

" _Unsightly isn't it," said a familiar voice beside Eragon. He jerked around and beheld Sri'Hisvran, this time in a dress with a saffron heart shaped top and an arm and neck ornament of bronze with a flared collar._

" _What is this place, where have you taken me," demanded the young rider._

" _What you see before you, young Eragon, is the world at its start many eons ago." She waved her three left arms out before her. "Welcome to Alagaesia." Eragon merely stared at her._

" _It can't be," he said with finality and quite a bit of fierceness. Sri'Hisvran looked at him, not unkindly, and spoke._

" _What you see is now long gone, though I fear it may be so again. Yes, what you see is the Asdhur and the Proto-Drago enslaved by the Ra'zac."_

" _What in…Proto-Drago…Ra'zac enslaved…" He looked down and within seconds a horrific feeling gripped him. The hunched figures, the hiss like sounds, the complete coverings…it was the Ra'zac. He looked skywards as screeches filled his ears. He let out a cry of shock and terror as he beheld sickly winged creatures of a muddy brown and gray color with wicked beaks, barbed purple tongues, and eyes of pure midnight. They were flying with abandon over the city._

" _The Lethrblaka as they are named in the ancient language, the Ra'zac's ultimate form." Sri'Hisvran gestured to the slaves. "The Proto-Drago was what developed into the majestic beings we know as Dragons today. Look close and you will see the difference." He stared, the feelings of horror giving way to feelings of despair._

 _Indeed the Asdhur woman was correct for the Proto-Drago possessed two hind legs and merely small clawed arms that were useless upfront. Its neck was long and serpentine with spikes that were more quill-like projections than anything. Its head was short and bulbous with a beak like snout, but as it roared he noticed the razor teeth and felt they weren't unlike Saphira's. It flapped its bat like wings and continued to pull, the Asdhur helping it along._

" _How did the Ra'zac do this," Eragon demanded, stomping his foot and turning to Sri'Hisvran. "I was under the impression your people were powerful!" She smiled sadly at the rider with pursed lips._

" _Even great civilizations must rise from something youngling, but if you must know…" She waved her hands and they flew as if scraps of parchment in the wind. She then began to tell him a story._

" _Long ago a band of creatures with similar bloodlines, that is they were of some group of species, rose to create a wicked empire across the world. The Ra'zac were merely one." They shifted to the right and flew out towards a sea he realized. She gestured below as a mighty serpent rose from the depths, consuming a great deal of fish in one go, as Eragon flailed his arms. "Do not worry, you are merely observing what I know.'_

 _They flew over a mountain range of snow capped peaks and wide valleys. "These species rose and enslaved many races. The Ra'zac, The Voranarch," she waved her hand as they came to a great desert. A domed city, the same one from the atrium tiles Eragon realized, rose from the sands of a massive desert. He felt his blood run cold as he beheld a myriad of wicked spider like beings, some almost human-esque, as they went about spinning webs, casting spells, and in some cases cocooning slaves alive. "And many others. They were the servants of ancient beings, dark and terrible, who served only their appetites."_

" _Appetites," asked Eragon as they approached the edge of the desert and came upon a great plain._

" _For blood, terror, souls, despair. The malevolence and sheer might of these beings was so great that the world was filled with nothing but fear." They left the plains and it gave way to a temple city where at the center Ashdur slaves were being sacrificed upon an altar. It was there that Eragon beheld it. He couldn't bear to take his eyes away as he beheld the creature in all of its horrific glory._

 _A large circular gaping mouth filled with needle sharp fangs and a barbed tongue filled the creatures face. Multiple eyes, sickly yellow, looked upon the altar. Its head gave way to tendril like hair. Protrusions of black bone barbs followed down the blubbering mass of its body that was supported by a mess of tentacles. A row of arms on each side held chalices that caught the victim's blood. It's barbed tongue immediately began to lap up the captured blood._

" _That is merely a minor one. They are far more fearsome the older they become. These beings, these Old Ones, enslaved the world so that they may feed on the emotions they brought about. Their servants were fed in return with their favorite meals and great abilities and wicked knowledge. Power. Might is right. You understand." Sri'Hisvran took Eragon's arm._

" _Now for what is," she whispered and Eragon felt as if a hook attached to his navel and whipped him away. They were launched through another dizzying array of colors and landed in the Shadow Elf throne room. The Night Queen Arya was conferring with her advisors and generals, looking grim. "The Queen seeks her own end, of which you are a part of, but she has come to care for these people…in her own way," said the Soothsayer with a smirk. She stepped back and again they launched through time and space._

 _Eragon and she rounded a bend and he soon realized where they were. "We're headed towards Carvahall!" His companion merely nodded. Eragon's smile grew as he knew they were about to come upon his home. As they came over the hill he cried out in anguish._

 _Black husks were all that remained of many buildings, some only piles of ash and soot. Wolves wondered through the wreckage. Great pines and oaks with sharpened branches were blasted apart on a makeshift perimeter with bloodies stakes in a massive trench. They alighted on a hill and again Eragon felt a stab. The remains of Horst's magnificent home surrounded him._

" _WHAT HAPPENED HERE!?"_

" _I'm afraid I don't know the details, but this, your home village, is gone. This is its current state. You didn't think Galbatorix would ignore your home for long did you?" Eragon dropped to his knees, crying out, as he imagined the death of all he had known for so many years._

 _Sri'Hisvran put a hand on his shoulder. I can't show you a great deal in the present without risking exposure. So come, I must still show you a few other things before the future." With that they were ripped away again, despite Eragon's protests._

 _They next landed in a field of blood soaked grass. Around him were horses and men, broken banners, arrows everywhere. "The Varden continue their fight then." Eragon wiped the tears from his eyes and looked about. "The Varden will need your help sooner rather than later." He nodded dumbly as he observed the carnage._

" _Why show me this," he asked thickly._

" _To show you what the world is like in your absence. So much carnage and devastation. You are sorely needed youngling. You aren't weak. You are strong. You can help end all of this," and the seer waved her arm around at the field. She grabbed him again. "The visions quicken each time. Prepare yourself!"_

 _Eragon beheld a series of visions and this time emotions and feelings rushed through him._

 _His head thrown back, cheeks flushed, and feelings of ecstasy flowed through him…_

 _A great fleet of ships of many different designs headed towards the horizon and a feeling of pride, but also a sense of foreboding…_

 _A beautiful keep on a field that looked so familiar, sounds of a hammer ringing out in a smithy, the smell of the harvest in the air and a feeling of contentment…_

 _A field, littered with blood and gore, numerous twisted corpses, and a figure in black howling mad with laughter and a feeling of complete and utter despair…  
_

* * *

Eragon felt his consciousness whip back into his body. He steadied himself with his hand and looked up at Sri'Hisvran. "Wha…what was all of that," he stuttered.

"As I told you. It was the past, present, and the future…or the future that may or may not be. Fate is a tempest that relies on actions and their aftermath. Fate is a great forest with many paths through it. You can't walk all roads, but there are plenty of forks." Eragon nodded, his mind whirling. He jumped back as a cold snout press into his neck. He turned and looked at Huulthraem.

' _ **Bed,'**_ the wise beast stated with finality.

* * *

' _ **That was foolish,'**_ Huulthraem snarled. Sri'Hisvran merely sipped from her mug and stared out as the evening tide came in. The great cat curled up next to her, his hair on end as his anger whirled like a maelstrom.

"You think," stated the Asdhur woman after a while, "that the child will succeed. Angela taught him to shift and blood magic. Now, in his attempt to protect himself and his companions, he has torn open a time wound. He is open to **their** influence now." Her eyes narrowed at the horizon as she saw things only she was capable of.

' _ **If Her Majesty were to discover our actions it would lead t,'**_

"That demonic little cunt won't figure a thing out as long as we don't tell her," Sri'Hisvran snapped. Huulthraem picked his head up and stared at his oldest friend.

' _ **You know what was done to her. She deserves our sympathy.'**_

"Sympathy, yes, but I have no time for petty games of revenge. What would happen if Galbatorix succeeds? What would it mean for Alagaesia? Not to mention the rest of the world and countless worlds after that?"

Huulthraem snapped his massive jaws. _**'We aren't even sure he's after what you think he's after. He could have discovered plenty of dark wonders in the North. The Barrows of Anghelm hold many dark artifacts. Or even the resting place of Jarnunvosk. Let's not even get started on the Grove of the Four Sisters.'**_

' _ **Great machinery digging into rock and ice? Countless soldiers diverted? Not to mention we have lost contact with so many tribes in the Spine? All accounts had them headed to the Beors and no sign or sound of them since. Forget about the bloody queen and listen to what I am telling you. Things seem to stay the same except for the Mad King and that accursed black beast of his. Huulthraem I am speaking to you with my mind for I am fearful of speaking this out loud. The consequences of uncovering the gate would be the end of us all. Galbatorix's madness and lust for power know no bounds. It's time to repair Eragon and set him on the path Brom started. Angela did right by the old man, but it's time for us to finish what was started.'**_ The six armed woman then emptied her now cold tea on the rocky shore and traipsed back to Neth'Anyar, Huulthraem following behind her subdued.

* * *

Eragon awoke with a shout as multiple hands shook him from his nightmares. A sharp blaring noise could be heard in the distance. He covered his eyes as the white orbs of light sprang into existence. Sri'Hisvran looked down at him. Her hair was pulled back with a thin cord and she wore a nightgown. The sounds of rushing boots and orders being called filled the air.

"What's going on," Eragon asked blearily.

"War," answered the seer. "Come, quickly, get dressed." She motioned to a pile of clothing two servants stood silently with. Both of them wore padded leather and thick cloth outfits with daggers belted at their sides. Si'Hisvran left with a twirl of her gown.

Eragon did as he was told, having the feeling it was best for the time being. The servants helped him into padded trousers and knee high greaved boots. Over his form fitting shirt went a thick leather corset with a metallic neck piece. Plate backed gloves completed the rather odd rainment. A black cloak was wrapped around his shoulders and pinned with one large piece falling down his right shoulder. Then to his shock his was given a quiver of wickedly barbed arrows, but no bow.

"Go," ordered the servant pointing at the door as they began packing things in his room into large black chests.

Eragon entered the anteroom of the compound. Servants rushed about with things as a group of soldiers assembled outside. He could hear people in the distance rushing about. He walked to the edge of the low wall at the start of the compounds front garden and gasped. Neth'Anyar was alight. Great flameless lanterns almost as large as a full grown war horse had been erected on massive curling root poles. Columns of soldiers marched towards the walls with their spears locked outwards like a porcupine. Arbalest wielders and wicked war machines were fitted with bolts and arrows as they circled to the tops of many towers. Eragon grasped as he heard a commander from afar bellow in the ancient language, "fire!"

A dozen trebuchets launched flaming orbs over the thorn wall into the environs. Eragon spun and turned back to the compound just as Sri'Hisvran re-appeared. He stopped short and did a double take. Her curls whirled around her, let go from the cord and her face was set with a grim look, and she twirled black short swords in each hand while inspecting her green and black flanged armor. A turquoise cape billowed down from her back as she spun them all about. She smirked as she came to notice Eragon.

"Good, it fits. I know the armor is a bit odd. It's bronze and proto-drago leather. From a long ago age, but Huulthraem felt it might fit you. Here," she motioned behind her and Eragon couldn't help but smile as Val'synra's case was brought up to him. "You'll need it. Oh and this," she pressed her hand to his chest. Glowing yellow chains sprung about him. His vision flickered until he yelled in shock. A great jagged wound with eerie light spilling forth was in the middle of his chest.

"What is that!" Sri'Hisvran looked grim again.

"Angela never explained the cost did she? Shifting literally shifts time. When done incorrectly it can cause this, a time wound. It's why you have had so many nightmares and prophetic dreams. I'll explain more later. This is a blood magic spell, one you will need to learn later, that puts a bandage on the bleeding so to speak. Don't think of it now for we must focus on the task at hand." Huulthraem came up to them. He wore his own body armor, also clearly forged in a different age given the look of it.

' _ **Come, there's knife work to be doing.'**_

* * *

The docks held a great deal of warships being outfitted with sails and ballistae bolts. They boarded one and Sri'Hisvran went about ordering her contingent of soldiers ready.

' _ **These men are specifically corsairs she has trained. They are more loyal to her than anything. You're in luck. It's why she allows them to be in the house with you as our guest. Anyone else would report back to Arya.'**_ Huulthraem hadn't spoken since they left. Neither had Sri'Hisvran.

' _ **So you'll now tell me what's going on,'**_ Eragon wondered. The werecat nodded.

' _ **It seems those eight-legged freaks have dug a new tunnel right to the gates of the environs. Ancient Asdhurian spells kept them from going further, but they overwhelmed the Vanguard. Now they are trying to swarm the bridge. Our goal is to circle back with the fleet and fire upon the rear of their swarm from afar and let the Queen and her forces do the work upfront.'**_

Eragon nodded. He had no plans on trying to escape. He may have, but Sri'Hisvran and Huulthraem had been kind to him. Not to mention he knew he'd just be trekking right into a massive spiders nest, literally. For the time being defending the elven capitol was his best bet at survival. So he set forth rigging the sails.

* * *

"Fire," bellowed The Soothsayer. The bolts of the ballistae and arbalests launched and a horde of spiderlings, drones, and the beetle like "siege-spiders" were set aflame in a green blaze. Eragon hadn't been allowed to use his Chaugaulacis, Val'synra, yet. "That is not a toy and on some level it is a weapon of mass destruction. You will use it, but not yet," Sri'Hisvran had told him sternly. Instead he ran about doing whatever needed to be done. He reset the ballistae, lit the tar, brought more bolts from the bowels of the ship, and other general work.

Huulthraem padded up to him. _**'Sri'Hisvran says to climb the mast. Use the speculum up there and report to me any potential aerial attacks. The swarm has ignored us but the damage we have caused will mean that that won't remain the same for long. Go!'**_ Eragon began climbing as quick as possible. He looked down from the top of the ship. The elven navy had deployed into the dark waters surrounding Neth'Anyar. When he was first brought to the city he hadn't noticed the fact that is lay on a small stone island in the middle of an underground sea that wasn't far from shore. Now great dromons fired massive blades at the mouth of the bridge while the sleek and wicked carracks like Sri'Hisvran's fired ballistae bolts.

Eragon grabbed the speculum and immediately observed the skies. "Thank the gods for those massive lanterns," he muttered. For the next few minutes he didn't see a thing until, _**'Swarm across the water! Port side! Headed this way!'**_ He heard Huulthraem roar a challenge to the sky and watched as arbalests let go with a twang. A flurry of flaming bolts pierced the air as the eight legged bulbous forms of the drones fell into the sea. Again they fired and again the drones fell before they reached the ship.

' _ **ERAGON, LOOK OUT,'**_ Huulthraem roared. He spun around and ducked. Four drones carried a Voranarch with a human like torso and four eyes. Its mouth was open with a series of fangs appearing beneath its chelicerae. It was dropped and clinged to the outside of the crow's nest. It chittered and its three fingered claw like arms launched at him, grabbing. He leaned back from it and reached for the dagger given to him as the battle started. He sliced a finger off and the creature reared back, pulling a saw like sword from its own holster. The mast shook and Eragon glanced down briefly. Huulthraem was clawing upwards and snarling his challenge.

The corsairs continued to fire, but now Sri'Hisvran was dividing her attention, watching as Huulthraem climbed. Eragon deflected blows, three years of Angela's techniques filling his head. All of a sudden shouts filled the air as spiders flung themselves from the sea and began to devour the artillery. In that brief moment of distraction his attacker flicked it's saw like sword and sent his dagger flying.

Without so much as a thought Eragon whipped Val'synra from his back and, using the sharp end, sliced it across the spider-man's stomach. The creature chittered and then began to screech. He stared with fascination as a glowing icy blue wound began to ripple and necrosis spread along the creature. Before long only a dead, diseased husk clung to the mast before him. He smirked. _**'Now this is something I can use,'**_ and with that he kicked the necrotic husk from the sailing and fit a barbed arrow and let it fly. He watched as it came alight with sapphire flames on its own accord. A drone fell into the sea and the few around it lit up like the tar on the ballistae. Sri'Hisvran invaded his mind.

' _ **Now you see why it's dangerous.'**_

* * *

Eragon grabbed another set of arrows as it was tossed up to him and began firing again. Sweat dripped down his forehead and his arms burned, but still he brought the bowstring back and fired. Still the swarm kept coming. The elves weren't beleaguered due to their strength, but the prolonged battle was having an effect even on them. Eragon soon emptied his quiver. _**'Enough,'**_ said Sri'Hisvran. _**'Come down.'**_ Eragon didn't argue and launched over the side, jumping from rope to rope, and landing heavily.

"We have to plug that damn hole they've opened up," the six armed woman pointed at where tons of the Voranarch still burst forth from.

' _ **How,'**_ asked Huulthraem as he ripped off the head of a drone with his teeth.

"The Queen has directed the trebuchets to relocate to the far right of the city where they have better vantage points. We are to attack the skies and waters to ensure nothing gets through to destroy them while they launch rubble to plug the opening so we will,' The Seer cried out in shock as she was cut off by the sudden appearance of a massive spider dropped from above. The monstrous creature released an egg sac from its abdomen that immediately hatched. Tons of milky white spiders sprung out. Eragon knocked two away deftly before launching arrows at the monstrous beast. He groaned as the arrows bounced off her thick carapace.

The deck of the ship began to bulge inward from the spiders immense girth and weight. She kept dropping egg sacs like little bombs and striking out with her front legs. Eragon had picked up an elven blade and slashed away at the spiderlings while Huulthraem and Sri'Hisvran tried to find a way to kill their mother. Then to their shock she began to climb the mast of the carrack, web shooting from her spinnerets.

' _ **SHE'S GOING TO JUMP AND TRY TO PULL THE SHIP UNDER WITH HER THREADS,'**_ roared Huulthraem for all to hear. Just as she reached the top a massive thud filled the air.

 _THUD._ The corsairs looked up. _THUD._ The massive spider stalled, chittering. _THUD._ Eragon and his companions heard a growl that turned into a roar. A dragon's roar.

A massive fireball crashed into the spider, sending her and half the mast spinning into the sea, her threads snapping away. Saphira flew above and roared out a sheet of flame across the sky as thick green and black blood as well as chunks of flesh rained down on the ships deck. Eragon immediately began to cry with joy.

* * *

 **NEXT CHAPTER: How the hell did Saphira get there? Are the others with her? Let's see what ANgela, Murtagh, SOlembum, and Saphira have been up to. Time for the characters to come together again and meet one another and maybe, just maybe, find out a little bit more about The Night Queen's plans for Eragon.**


End file.
